Midnight Cry
by Lady Rane
Summary: The faith of a young ninja transforms everything around him as the End Times approach. This is a Ninja Turtles and Left Behind crossover fic. Complete!
1. Autumn Rain

1 

  


Mike 

  
  
Some nights, I guess, thugs and druggies come to places like the Fifth Baptist Mission, not just hungry people who need a place to crash. Sometimes I guess, good people who are just trying to help other people out get messed up for it. I guess its a little different for my bros and me. Okay. A _ lot _ different. I mean, we can kick butt. But this lady I found, real small and probably no idea how to even throw a punch, who comes into one of the worst areas of town every night to try and feed some people who may just beat her to death, well, I guess that's what a real hero is.   
  
I'd come up to get a candy bar. Yeah. I know, I know. But you know what? It gets really really cooped up down in my pad. So I guess it wasn't really for the candy, I guess it was just to get away for a little while. I love my t.v. and my dvds and my XBox (courtesy of April) as much as the next turtle, but sometimes they just aren't enough. And to keep from getting caught by Leo, who'd just drag me back, or Raph, who'd just come along and start something and make trouble, you gotta kind of become one with the sewers and get out aways before you pop up. Which is how I ended up in that neighborhood that night.   
  
Her attackers got one good look at me and took off. I'm not like Raph. I was glad. It meant I could take care of her instead of fighting them. I expected her to scream or shy away even though I really tried to be as gentle as I could as I picked her up. It felt like everything in her body had been broken. There was like, this wind, you know, one of those really wet cold fall winds that make you feel like you're standing in the middle of a horror movie. Those things creep me out, I can imagine what she felt like, sitting there in the arms of well, a giant turtle monster.   
  
"Hey," I said. "I'm uh, just gonna get you to a hospital."   
  
She smiled at me. She was tiny. I can't really tell how old humans are, but she didn't seem very old to me. She had black skin and her hair was done up in a bunch of little braids. "I think it'll be too late," she whispered. There was blood trickling down her chin and out of her nose and her shirt felt wet too.   
  
"You aren't freaked out by me?"   
  
She shook her head. It looked painful. I wanted to tell her to stop it. Instead I started to walk, you know? It was gonna hurt her too much if I ran. "God doesn't make mistakes," she said.   
  
And that was cool. I really wished more people would think like that, you know?   
  
Now if I were Don, or Leo, I would know exactly where the hospital was, or maybe I would have located a payphone and called an ambulance, only I was scared to leave her. What if those guys came back, or she died in the street? I somehow had this idea that if I held on to her, she'd hold on to life. Only out in the surface night, I was horribly lost. It started to rain, which was good, cause I had started to cry, and I didn't want her to notice. Only she did. She brushed my eyes with her fingertips as if I was just another human.   
  
"This has happened for a purpose," she said softly.   
  
I didn't know where she got that calm from but boy was I impressed. "Yeah uh, don't worry, okay?" I said.   
  
"There's something I need you to have."   
  
It must have been incrediably painful, but she reached into her ripped up jacket and brought out a book. She struggled to tuck it into my belt, and managed it.   
  
"When you find you can't understand it," she said, "pray about it and if you're sincere, God will make it clear."   
  
She closed her eyes and a moment later she was dead.   
  
You know, in fighting weirdos like the Shredder, or the Purple Dragons, I think I forget that there's just lots of nasty people in the world that do nasty things. They don't have a plan or a purpose, they don't do it for any reason we can understand.   
  
I laid her in someone's porch so she wouldn't get wet. A car turned the bend, so I got myself back down to the sewers. I sort of slumped against the walls and yanked out my flashlight so I could see the book. It was a Bible, obviously well loved, colored stripes on the edges where she'd highlighted something. I opened it up and started frantically turning its pages. Not trying to find any answers to what had just happened or anything. I was just really hoping that somewhere in there my new, dead friend had scrawled out her name.   
  
  
  
** Author's Notes: ** I do not own the TMNT.   
  
I also have broken my own personal prohibition against putting incomplete fiction up with this fic. Which is funny as it is only my second. Still this one won't leave me alone, and I got the impression there are folks who enjoy seeing the story as it unfolds, update by update. My promise is that I'll keep updating regularly and will eventually finish the story. 


	2. Lousy Liar

2 

  
  


Leo 

  
  
Mike had been gone for several hours when we all started to get worried. Even Raph was worried, though he just went into his room and turned on his stereo at top volume and pretended to be mad instead. Me, well, I sort of get mad when I'm worried. And then I have to do something. So I went walking the sewers myself.   
  
But when I ran into him at last, I got even more worried. Mike was slumped up against the wall. One hand held a flashlight. The bulb wasn't on though, either he'd turned it off or it had simply burned out. The other held a worn looking book, which Mike was staring at.   
  
And Mike with a book, especially a book that thick, is unusual enough to incite comment in and of itself.   
  
So I curbed my, "where have you been," demands and asked instead, "Mikey? Are you okay? We've all been worried about you."   
  
Mike shoved the book into his belt. "Oh yeah. Fine dude. Stellar. Rockin' on. Lets go home." He recited this whole litany in a monotone, but he started walking. In fact, he walked right past me. This was so unlike Mike that I was getting more alarmed by the second. I fell into step next to him.   
  
"What's the book?" I asked.   
  
"Oh that. Its a Bible. A friend gave it to me."   
  
Which meant he'd been topside. Now don't get me wrong. I like going up there too. We've made some friends even, such as the Professor. To the displaced humans, a turtle isn't something to worry about. To them we're just other street people, other people who can't make it in the dominant society. But I don't like it when any of us go up there by ourselves, and neither does Master Splinter. He's resigned himself to the idea that we were going to go, but I know he felt better when we all went together.   
  
As I was gearing up to deliver this speech, though, the rest of what he said hit me. "A Bible? Like...Jesus?" All that I knew about human religion came off of t.v. Some of what I saw was okay. There was this one show about a preacher's family and how they struggled through things together, and I liked that one. But then I saw t.v. evangelists and stuff and quickly changed the channels. I guess all of us want something to believe in. For me its bushido. We all want people to help us be better at what we believe, too. Sometimes I'm not so sure that I get bushido after all. And there's always going to be those that take advantage of our doubts and questions. Shredder did it to me once, and I really don't consider myself that gulliable.   
  
"Yeah." Mike said. "Like that, dude."   
  
"What was your friend's name?"   
  
"Don't know."   
  
"Do you wanna talk about it?"   
  
Mikey just shook his head. He said, "I just want to put this in my room when we get back. Can you not mention this to the guys? Tell them that I went sewer surfing or something and the time got away from me. That you like, fussed at me like you'd normally do and that its all good now. Can you do that for me, bro?"   
  
Whatever had happened had obviously hit him hard. "I can do that," I said slowly. I was rewarded by a very sincere, very grateful look. Sometimes we're all taken in by Mike's fun loving, immature facade. Most of the time we forget there's a very compassionate guy under all that...well, silliness. He's always hit the hardest by other people's pain. And when it happens all the silliness melts away, and there's like, this stranger underneath. But its not a bad stranger. Its someone I wouldn't mind getting to know someday, when he's done with needing to be loud and obnoxious. Someone maybe I can relate to, get closer to. The only one I can really talk to is Don, and well, with Don it seems like he's the only one _ all _ of us can _ really _ talk to, so I don't like to burden him.   
  
We got home, and as promised Mikey melted into his room without a word to the others. I spun them the story he'd prepared for me. Don gave me a look which said very clearly he didn't believe it. Because Mike wasn't acting right for the sewer surfing story: that Mike would have laughed, joked, headed to the kitchen maybe to make a meal to make it up for us. Not disappeared into his room. But Raph simply accepted it and grumbled. "Well what do I care anyway? He's a big turtle. He can go wherever he wants to go. I don't care."   
  
Then he went into the kitchen and began slamming cabinets around, cooking the meal Mikey would have cooked us, which made me wonder if maybe he hadn't picked up on the fact that something wasn't right too.   
  
And Master Splinter? He just lifted an eyebrow at me until I had to drop my head, and then nodded, slowly.   
  
I always have been a lousy liar.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** This story is going to cycle through all four points of view throughout.   
  
Ramica: Thank you very much for the encouraging review! I'll keep the chapters coming. 


	3. The Soul Hypothesis

3 

  
  


Don 

  
  
Hours later and with a stomache full of Raph's poor excuse for cooking, I had pretty much forgotten the entire Mikey incident. Leo had moved on to praticing, Raph had gone on to bed, and I thought Mikey had too. To me this meant a chance to catch up on my reading in peace and quiet. I had a scientific journal, about a month out of date, and was learning about this guy Chaim Rosenzweig. He had this botanical formula idea that I thought would work, something to turn ground that wouldn't produce any crops into a sort of crop bearing paradise. What he had to say seemed sound and I was really looking forward to seeing how it worked out.   
  
That's when I heard, "Um, Donnie? Have you got a pencil I can borrow? And, oh. Some paper too."   
  
"Sure, hang on." I started digging for it, then frowned. "But first you mind telling me what is going on?"   
  
I've always thought that Mikey and I were the closest of all four of us. I know. Its an unlikely combination, right? But so is hydrogen and oxygen, and water is pretty necessary to our overall survival chances.   
  
He flopped down in front of my computer and brought up a game of solitare. I took a breath for patience as he plunked listlessly at a solitare game. This wasn't like him at all, so I was willing to entertain it.   
  
When his story came tumbling out, I was glad that I had. "Whoa, Mikey, that sounds heavy," I said. Worse than heavy. Some strange woman just dying in your arms, and nothing you can do about it. From what Mikey had to say about her injuries, I have my doubts that even a hospital would have been successful. She probably just would have died on the operating table from internal injuries. But Mikey didn't need to know that. I think that would have made him feel worse. I decided to divert the subject a little. "But what's with the pencil and paper?"   
  
"She was so calm, Donnie." Mikey spoke slowly. "And what she believes, its in this book. I want to know how she got calm like that. How she was so strong like that. But its hard to read, even sticking to the highlighted stuff, and I'm having trouble, so I thought if I wrote down what I thought it was saying, that maybe I'd get it."   
  
Uh oh. Danger zone. As far as I'm concerned, anyway. I mean, Mikey, he's a guy who can get caught up in an idea, especially if its a sentimental or beautiful one. Oh sure, you're thinking, yeah, right, Mikey, if he gets interested in religion its cause he read a comic about Jesus-in-tights whacking bad guys with some torturously bad dialogue to go with it. (And do not say a _ word _ about some of the stuff we come up with during our battles, okay? A guy has to keep his spirits up.) But me, I know him. I know better.   
  
The last thing we need is him taking off with some unprovable, superstitious ideal that causes people to kill one another. Just read history, you'll be right with me.   
  
So I said, "Ok. But...you know, just because she believed something and got some strength from it, that doesn't make it true. You know that, right?"   
  
It was the wrong thing to say and I could tell it was the moment the words left my mouth. His eyes flashed, and he frowned at me, levering himself to his feet. "Paper? Pencils?"   
  
I handed them over. I didn't want to alienate him. Usually Mike saves his anger for the badguys. When he actually directs it at one of us, you rethink what you're saying.   
  
I followed him as he went back to his room, and he let me. I sat and flipped through his comics as he looked at this Bible of his and wrote furiously in his blocky, childish handwriting. Mike. Studying. It was like the stars were all out of their proper alignment or something.   
  
At long last he looked up and said, "Ok, I think part of it is she knew she was going to live forever. See? Its right here."   
  
He seemed to have forgiven me, which was good news. I took the book and read the passage he was indicating. "And whosoever believes in me shall not die, but have eternal life." I was not impressed. "Mikey, people who believe this stuff die every day." Someone had died that day, after all.   
  
"I don't think he means they're gonna all be Highlanders. I think it has something to do with this resurrection thing this Jesus dude did."   
  
It took me a moment to place the reference. Oh yeah. Fictional immortals who ran around cutting off each other's heads with swords. Highlanders. Sure. "So you just believe and someday you get raised from the dead as if nothing ever happened?"   
  
"I'm not sure its that simple. There's some stuff in here about Jesus being really perfect cause he was God's son and all, and he was supposed to have died cause the bad stuff we do is what makes us deserve to die, and cause he died then we can get forgiven..."   
  
I must have had a weird look on my face because he trailed off right about then. He was getting carried away with this stuff. "Mikey," I said, "why are you worried about this stuff? This is all just human stuff. What does it matter?"   
  
"Well..." Mikey was slow to reply. "We're sort of like half human, right? And we've done bad stuff sometimes too. I guess everyone does. So I guess if there's a God I think it would be important to know how to get on his good side even if we are turtles. Besides, Donnie...don't we have souls? Don't we? Just like humans?"   
  
For once, I didn't have an answer for him. A soul? Us? He had spun me a hypothesis I desperately wanted to believe, but had no proof for, or against.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** And now its time for a new disclaimer: I don't own Chaim Rosenzweig either! He is a character out of Left Behind by Jerry B. Jenkins and Tim LaHaye. I am just borrowing him for this crossover fic which makes positively no profit. As further Left Behind characters gain mention in this fic I will post other disclaimers. I also do not own the Ninja Turtles, something I neglected to mention in the past chapter but which remains true.   
  
Daydream1 and Ramica: Thanks so much for the encouragement! You have no idea how worried I was about posting up a religious turtle fic. Ramica, thanks for letting me know that I'm on target in my characterizations -- here's hoping I stay that way. Until the next update! 


	4. Bugs

4 

  
  


Raph 

  
  
Don wasn't at his computer. I wanted to know what the hell was up with Mikey. Of course Mikey wasn't going to tell _ me. _ Hell, I guess Donnie probably wouldn't either. Its freaking typical. Somethin' happens, and for god's sake don't tell Raph!   
  
_Well, whatever. He's fine now, obviously, so whatever. Let him sulk, I bet Leo said some choice stuff. Nice that someone else is on the end of it for a change. You'd think they all think I'm a damn moron or something._   
  
Only I was worried, and I needed a distraction, cause the last thing I wanted do was sit there and get all mushy and crap. And there was Don's stuff, right there, unguarded. And I happened to know all about the Bugs.   
  
I am constantly amazed by my brother's stuff. Wish he'd just have the initiative to do somethin' with it instead of cavin' to old Leo's worry wart, do-nothing nature. This time Donnie had created these little listening devices, just like the FBI uses, only they were sort of little robots as well. They were shaped like bugs and the little metal roaches would actually move around a spot when it looked like they were about to be found. He had invented them four months ago and they then went and sat in a drawer. We didn't sell 'em cause we were worried about whoever bought 'em. Who knows what they'd use 'em for? And that was freakin' fine by me, really. Let Donnie do his repair junk to get us some dough. Eventually the rest of us might figure somethin' out, and you know April and Casey, they're really great about making sure the money gets to us and then gets turned into shit we can use, like oh, food, furniture, my stereo, whatever.   
  
But I'm gettin' off track. So okay. We were not gonna sell 'em, and I so I say, "Hey, let's use 'em to spy on Shredder. I'd sure like to know what he's plannin'."   
  
And Leo says, "Its too dangerous."   
  
Jeez. Its like someone wrote us a damn script or something. So back to it. They sat in the drawer, but they were easy to use and operate. You could even get 'em to send transcripts to your email on a daily basis. My computer ain't as fast as Don's, but we've all got 'em, except Mike who opted for the XBox and Leo who opted for something he won't even tell us about. I say screw Leo and his secrets, but the XBox is fun at least.   
  
Hell, maybe Donnie was in there, playin' XBox. And thinking that thought kept me from feelin' even a little guilty that I was gonna get to do what I wanted to do mostly cause Mikey was feelin' bad about somethin'.   
  
I opened the door, grabbed 'em, and snuck out. Not all of 'em of course, but enough for what I needed to do. I had more Sneaking Out routes than anyone had a clue about. Leo was pretty good at finding them, but he was worried too, and this meant he was all wrapped up in kata.   
  
Casey, you see, had tracked down the location of the Foot compound for me, as well as Shredder's limo. Yeah, Mr. Corporate America, that's Shredder. Bastard. Even I didn't think tryin' to get right into the heart of the compound was exactly smart. But a parking lot...even a heavily guarded one...no sweat.   
  
By the time I got myself under the limo, my heart was pounding with excitement and I was done thinking about the whole situation. I reached up, opened the door, tossed my Bug load, and closed it. Then I sprinted away to get my settings fixed up.   
  
When I was safely back in the sewers I was pretty proud of myself. I'd gone and made my own executive decision, and no disaster had come of it. None of the dire scenarios that Leo always predicted. And maybe, just maybe, I'd given us an edge. Maybe my brothers would listen to me a bit more too. I couldn't wait to tell Casey. I just hoped Donnie wouldn't be mad, but hell, once he figured out how cool it was, what I'd done, how useful and how smart, he'd probably congradulate me, right?   
  
And for once I got to my own room without Leo noticing a thing. Mostly cause he'd finished his practice by collapsing, asleep, on the dojo floor.   
  
Some practice, others, such as yours truly, do!   
  
** Author's Notes: ** Yes, Gentle Readers, it is subplot time!   
  
Red Turtle: Thanks for giving my fic a chance. It is my hope that I will not ultimately disappoint.   
  
Ramica: Thank you for the continued encouragement!! It is greatly appreciated. 


	5. Tamika

5 

  
  


Mike 

  
  
After Donnie left but before I went to bed, I looked up at the sky. You know, cause that's where everyone looks when they're talking about God stuff. And I said, "Okay dude, I don't get it, so uh, help me out." I think it was really kind of my first prayer. I also think it kind of sucked. Then I realized I was tired so I turned on my nightlight, that is to say, my little t.v. set that I keep in my room. Its just so cool to go to sleep at night with all the voices and sounds washing over me. It reminds me that no matter how we might feel, really, we're no more alone than anyone else is. There's tons of people in the world that don't feel accepted, that can't hang with many outside of their own posse. In that respect I don't see how we're too different. Okay, so we probably won't ever get girlfriends, but lets get real, there's more to life than that.   
  
At least, that's what I think.   
  
Took me awhile to get to sleep though. The sounds of the t.v. were just sort of noises that night as I tried to sort out everything that had happened. My bod finally gave up on it and I crashed.   
  
Now one thing about being us is that we get to sleep whenever we want, pretty much. So when I woke up it was to the 11:00 news, and the answer to my dumb-sounding prayer of the night before. Sort of. It wasn't straightforward or anything. What I mean is, when I woke up, the girl I'd found last night's picture was on the screen, and I got her name.   
  
I sat bolt upright. The name under her picture said "Tamika Auden." I had her name, and I said it a few times, over and over. To make sure I remembered it, though that's kind of dumb cause its not like I'd ever forget. Maybe just to say it. At any rate, I had it now. It described how she'd been found dead on the porch of one of the project complexes. Beaten to death, murdered, no suspects. Nothing I didn't already know, though it still made me kind of sick to my stomach to hear it.   
  
Then they went into stuff I didn't know. Junior at NYU, studying math. She had wanted to be a teacher. I could see that. I bet she'd have made a great teacher. Honor student.   
  
It wasn't much detail. Its the kind of stuff I guess had we started out differently that she'd have started out telling me. You know. The little things you say when you're trying to be friends. Or at least, I think so, as usually my friendships with humans start out as something like, "OH MY GOD CAN YOU BE REAL?" or, "What's with the turtle costume" and then if they can move past that we start getting somewhere. Not that its happened that often, either.   
  
Then I realized that someone who knew Tamika might be able to sort of explain stuff to me, and that's when I thought maybe God had been listening the night before.   
  
I'm not dumb or anything, but let's face it, there is a LOT of Bible, and her version was all full of thees and thous and stuff. It was hard to read.   
  
Donnie was still asleep. He's never minded me using his stuff though. I got on the internet. Trial and error mostly got me to NYU's website. I got a student directory, I typed in her name, and I got her phone number. On t.v. all college kids have roommates, so maybe she did too. I scrawled it down and got off the computer, then went back to my room and dug out my trusty shell cell.   
  
The girl who answered the phone sounded like she'd been crying.   
  
"Hi," I said. "I uh...I'm...Mike Angel. I was uh...listen, did you know Tamika?"   
  
"Yeah. She was my roommate. And my best friend. Where did you know her from?"   
  
"We met at the Mission."   
  
"I hated her going out there. I always told her it was too dangerous for her. She wouldn't let me take her."   
  
The girl sounded guilty, angry. She had sort of a tough talking voice that reminded me a little of Raph.   
  
"Do you uh, know anything about what she believed?"   
  
Silence. Then: "Yeah. Yeah, I do, Mike. I believe it too. I'm not quite the Christian she was, but I believe it."   
  
"Do you think you would be able to explain it to me?"   
  
Another silence. Then, "You wanna come over maybe?"   
  
Tamika and her best bud apparently had this trusting strangers thing down. Only there was a hint of challenge in her tone.   
  
"Uh...I'm...well I'm really different. I'd rather just do it over the phone."   
  
"Tamika didn't have many friends. She didn't have family either." The challenge upped a notch. "And I," her voice caught. "I'm gonna need help going through her stuff. You gotta what, a cleft palate or something? Who cares? Tamika didn't. I don't either. Here's the address. I'm Rachel Hunt, so if you get lost on campus you can ask around and you'll find me."   
  
How could Tamika not have many friends? Someone like Tamika had to have had _ dozens _ of friends.   
  
The guys were gonna kill me if they found out, but I knew I had to meet Rachel. I just really hoped she was serious about being like Tamika in the "not freaking" respect.   
  
"Okay. I'll see you," I said. I was willing to risk it. Its not like the Purple Dragons didn't know us down to the last ridge on our shell for crying out loud. I didn't see what harm meeting one college student would be.   
  
Of course there'd be no convincing the guys (cough, Leo, cough) of that. And maybe not Donnie as he's sort of opposed to this whole religion thing. Raph wouldn't wanna be woken up. So I'd just go be one with the sewers again, right?   
  
It sort of seemed a little like a funeral though, so I wanted to do more than my elbow pads and mask. Each of us have this gi and hakama set that Master Splinter gave us one year. They're beautiful and I don't know where he got all the fabric, or how he sewed it without us knowing, and none of us wear them too often cause we don't want to ever mess them up. I know Leo has his hung on careful display. He even remembered what all the hakama pleats meant, swordsman that he is. Me, I just thought they were pretty cool, real elegant. Wasn't sure how a trenchcoat and hat was going to work with traditional Japanese wear, but I needed the covering. Luckily it was now cold enough that those things didn't attract much attention. The extra clothes would help with that, too. I threw on some boots and examined myself in the mirror. All done up in orange and black and brown. Oddly the modern clothes looked pretty spiffy with the traditional. I pulled the hat down low and thought I coul d pass for a human if I didn't let anyone get a real good look. Maybe a human wearing funky green gloves, but a human. If I was lucky she wouldn't make me take off my hat and she'd be none the wiser.   
  
It was funny but I even felt kind of dignified.   
  
I'd gotten a few blocks away from the lair when I got busted.   
  
"My son."   
  
"Master Splinter!" Oops. Oh yeah. He'd have been up hours ago. I turned to face him.   
  
He looked at me for a real long time and I couldn't really read the expression on his face. He said, "You've dressed up."   
  
"Uh, yes Master Splinter." I threw in a bow for good measure. "This is kind of important to me."   
  
"You have not spoken to any of your brothers about this. Or myself."   
  
"I talked to Donnie. But he doesn't understand. Master Splinter, I'll be careful, I promise. There's just some things I need to go find out about. Its sort of like...like spiritual stuff."   
  
I could tell I'd surprised him there because his eyebrows went like, way up next to where his ears start. He stared into my eyes and I guess he was able to figure out I wasn't kidding. He nodded slowly and waved a hand at me, letting me take off.   
  
No matter what I knew when I got back I'd kneel down to him in those nice clothes he gave me and tell him exactly what was going on. I guess I kind of owed it to him.   
  
Being out in daylight was scary. So was taking a bus, and a ferry, which I had to do if I actually wanted to _ get _ to NYU. I guess I could have taken the van but...well I already sort of felt funny about the whole thing. Nobody looked twice at me. I guess people sort of see what they expect to see, most people, if you give them enough reasons to.   
  
I took a deep breath and knocked on Rachel's door.   
  
She opened it and we stared at one another for a moment. Rachel I guess wasn't a person who saw whatever she expected to see, because her eyes went right under the shadows of my hat and trench. She was short. Real short blonde curls, kind of a pixie-face, but her body was very muscular. She was dressed in jeans and a tank top, and even had a tatoo: a dragon curled around a glowing golden cross, looking like she was guarding it. The tatoo was on her left shoulder. I could see a martial arts school uniform hanging in the room. It had to be hers, no way had Tamika been a martial artist. She was like, nothing like Tamika, and that surprised me a little, I guess because by now I knew they were both Christians and even though I didn't have a real good grasp on their beliefs yet, I sort of had an image of well, you know, sweetness and light and stuff. Even hearing Rachel on the phone I'd sort of still had that image. On some level finding someone that was a little less otherworldly I guess was sort of a relief.   
  
"Jeez, cleft palate I was ready for, reptile face, I ain't. But come on in, Mike. I'm Rachel, nice to meet you."   
  
That was it? That was her whole reaction? I gaped at her. She shrugged.   
  
"The world's full of weird shit. You try to mess me up I'll kick your ass, but until then make yourself at home. You probably got messed over by some government expiriment, right? Freaking feds."   
  
Now she _ really _ reminded me of Raph.   
  
I sat down on the bed, intending to ask her questions, but instead I found myself blurting out everything about how I'd met Tamika.   
  
She just watched me. She had these deep green eyes. When I was done she just nodded. "Sounds like Tamika alright. So you want to know about the faith? I'm sort of bad at the whole evangelism thing, but I can try."   
  
I nodded, and she took a deep breath.   
  
"Well, okay. Its like this. In the Bible -- I think its Romans something, but don't ask me to quote chapter and verse -- it says that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. And if you think about it that's true, no matter how good you try to be you're going to end up sinning sometimes, somehow, even if its just by losing your temper unfairly. With me?"   
  
"Sure, I can think of stuff I've done I shouldn't have," I said. Loads of stuff.   
  
"Ok. Now the thing is, God is loving but he's also perfect justice. And all sin deserves punishment. You can't be in God's presence with any stain of sin. And no matter how hard you work to be good, its like wearing stained clothes. Like, okay. This one's in Isaiah, you can find it later if you care to. Sixty something? Not sure. Anyway it says that all our righteousness is like filthy rags compared to God's glory. So if things continued as normal, we'd have to take our punishment. Separation from God, and maybe worse, for all the stuff we've done. But God loves us. He says he doesn't want anyone to perish -- cause the wages of sin, see, that's death -- but all to come to repetance. So he sent His son. Jesus. And Jesus went lived his whole life as a human without any sin at all. So he didn't technically have to die. But he did. He went and experienced death on the cross to pay for our sins, so that we could be forgiven and enter the presence of God and enjoy eternal life."   
  
"So that's it?" I asked. "Everyone's forgiven once they die?" I have to admit I totally didn't like that. The guys that beat Tamika up, Shredder, Hun, I figured those people maybe needed to get theirs.   
  
Rachel shook her head. "Not quite. I guess its like any gift. You've gotta accept it. You've gotta realize you sin and admit that, then believe and accept that Jesus died for you, and thank Him for it. And then when I did it I also asked Him to come be a part of my life. You don't automatically turn into a good person or anything. Just then, you're forgiven, and you've got the Holy Spirit to guide you if you'll let it. Its like having a conscience, only instead of making you torment yourself with guilt, it points out what you're doing wrong and tells you to do better. And you find you want to. For some the changes are real subtle. For some they're real dramatic. But you'll change, just like I guess putting any new person in your life changes you. Your life won't automatically get better, but when your own strength runs out, God will always be with you, and you know he won't leave you, ever. That's why Tamika was so calm. God was with her. And she also really believed what the Bible says, that no matter what things happen to us that seem terrible, God's going to bring them about for good. Maybe not yours on earth, but someone's. And she would have been proud to have that happen for your good. And she'll get rewarded in heaven."   
  
Rachel got all quiet then, staring at the floor. She kept sort of wiping at her eyes. I let her get her tears under control. If she was as much like Raph as I thought she would she wouldn't want me to act like I knew she was crying.   
  
When I thought she was maybe going to be able to pretend to be okay again, I said, "So uh, what made you a Christian?" I'd never really said the word before, outloud. Christian. It sounded really weird in my mouth.   
  
"Tamika." Rachel said, instantly. "I'd resisted it for a long time. I had questions. Hell, I still have them. What about the people who didn't hear it, what about people who have been raised for years and years on their own belief system, isn't it unrealistic to demand that they believe something else, all of that. And the fact that you know Christians, they're just people. Like, I accept you, but believe me I'm kind of an outsider too. I wouldn't recommend you walking into a church or anything."   
  
"Wasn't planning on it, Dudette."   
  
We shared a grin.   
  
She went on. "But I always tried to do good you know, hoping that God would kind of balance that out. Tamika pulled out one of her Bibles one day -- she has tons of them, all different versions -- and showed me this verse about Jesus being the foundation. Then your good works build on that foundation and when you're judged, he'll test your works and you'll get rewarded for what remains. She said to me, accepting Jesus means that your good deeds are all that get looked at. None of your bad. So no matter what, if you've done something good, you're going to have the privledge of being rewarded for that. If you are ashamed, you'll only be ashamed that you didn't do as much as you could. But not that you did something wrong. You'll try not to do something wrong. Maybe you'll try to go all the way, live what we call a 'sanctified life', but...at the end of the day, you won't have to hear about it if you're honest with God about it. Well, it was her saying that and the fact that she was really really genuine. Tamika walked her talk. She was different from the tract-wavers and the people who run up to you and start off with 'you're going to hell.' It was never a fear thing for her. Always a love thing. That impressed me."   
  
It impressed me too.   
  
"Its why I don't usually do this," Rachel said quietly. "She was...she was special. She really did try to live exactly as the Bible says you should. Me, I haven't managed that, so I don't feel qualified to serve in that way. Plus I never liked it when people shoved their religion down my throat, and I've never really gotten over it. I'll tell anyone proudly that I follow Jesus, but I don't go any further, usually. I only told you because you asked."   
  
I took a quick glance around the part of the room that seemed to be Rachel's. I could spot a few cards that said, 'thank you for your donation.' I bet the dudette did more than she thought she did, but I didn't think she'd wanna hear it either. Besides, I had everything she said to think about. I realized it excited me. I could feel sort of this part of my life that was, you know, missing. And I could sort of feel God there, wanting to help me fill it. Maybe I didn't understand everything yet, but everything she'd said made sense to me. And the idea that someone died for me...well, whoa. I mean I'd die for anyone of my brothers, or Master Splinter, or April or even Casey, but it might be harder you know, someone I didn't even know. And I sure couldn't live a perfect life for them. So I said, "You didn't tell me how though. Do you like just decide?"   
  
"I guess you could. I said a prayer," Rachel said slowly, "that Tamika led me through. I could pray with you if you want. If you wouldn't be too uncomfortable. I mean I've never done it before."   
  
I grinned at her and nodded. I wanted to. God was gonna be with me to help me help my brothers all the time. cowabunga! I waited for her to make me get on my knees or something, but she just sort of awkwardly grabbed my hand. She blinked at it, said, "Those aren't gloves," and then shook her head and said, "Well just pray something like this: Dear Heavenly Father, I know that I am a sinner and I'm sorry for the things I've done. Thank you for sending your son Jesus Christ to pay the price for my forgiveness, and thank you for forgiving me. Please come be a part of my life and help direct me towards being more like you. In Jesus' name I ask this, Amen."   
  
I guess it was a little intimidating, saying all that, but I did say it and I meant everything. I have to admit I'm pretty sure its in the _ meaning _ it. And then I stood up, a new Christian turtle. I did feel different. Cleaner from the inside out, in places I didn't even know were dirty. Joyful.   
  
"Thank you," Rachel said softly. "For letting me...Tamika would have..." She let out a growl and just hugged me, then punched me in the shoulder. Then she said, "Here, I'm going to give you some of her books."   
  
She went digging through them. She handed me a book called "The Christian Adeventure," which sounded cool. And one called "The History of the Bible," and one called, "Sharing your Faith." Then there was a fourth one, which she hesitated over before laying it carefully on top of the pile on my arms. On the front it said, "Are We Living in the End Times?" by Paster Vernon Billings.   
  
"End Times?" I asked.   
  
She nodded. "Yes. Tamika believed that it was going to be soon. That we'd see Jesus come back to Rapture the believers before what she called the Tribulation that tests the whole world and ushers in a new age. All the believers are supposed to disappear in the blink of an eye or something, like Star Trek stuff, before the world basically really goes to hell in a handbasket. I never really read it because I don't like to think about it, though I hope if Jesus does come He'll take me too. Some people say all believers get to go, some say only the really good ones and..." her shoulders rose and fell. "Well I'm a lesbian. Not actively right now even though I don't feel like the Holy Spirit is really saying anything on it. But Tamika never approved. And if only the really sanctified Christians get to go I guess I'm stuck down here. If I am though I'll stop worrying so much and tell more people about Jesus. Because I guess then the proof will be everywhere."   
  
It hit me then that maybe she had been in love with Tamika. But me, I guess the world is full of so much hate that whatever kind of love gets in it can't be too bad. I told her so too and she just gave me a kind, sad look. Then I left her to her grieving, with my new books under my arm and my new faith in my heart. And one small worry, because I knew my brothers probably weren't going to agree with my choice.   
  
But in my head there was this little Tamika, and she was smiling, a real big bright grin like I'd seen on her picture on t.v. that morning.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** I'm not trying to turn this into a religious tract or anything. That said I felt it was important to clearly outline the faith that is pretty much going to be central to this story. I hope I've made things seem real and not pat or packaged for you. I think the popular image of Christianity is either the tract-waver or too good to be true, so I based Rachel off some real Christians that I know.  
  
Disclaimer time: I don't own Vernon Billings either. Vernon is another character from the Left Behind series. The only characters in this fic that I own thus far are Tamika and Rachel.   
  
Hopefully I haven't lost anyone, nobody reviewed Chapter 4, so there's nobody to acknowledge here. ;> But then, I am posting rather quickly. Its like the guys are just telling me this story and I'm just recording it. 


	6. Autumn Concerto

6 

Leo 

  
  
There are five pleats in the traditional hakama, and this is what they mean.   
  
The first is Chuu, or loyalty.   
  
The second is Ko, or justice.   
  
The third is Jin, or compassion.   
  
The fourth is Gi, honor.   
  
And the fifth is Rei, respect.   
  
In many ways the hakama pleats don't just represent to me the way of life I want to lead, the warrior's honor, the way of bushido, but they are a metaphor for my family.   
  
Raphael is Chuu. He's a hothead and he's a little selfish, but when the chips are down he's the one that will watch your back with utter devotion. I remember him in that barn, pumping bellows for me. Up and down, up and down, sweat standing up on his skin. He didn't complain, he didn't bark, he worked the bellows until once again I forged my blades. Sometimes when I want to snap at him that's the image I remember. I try to back off sometimes because I can be a hothead too, and he is the one who can bring it out with me. We are both deadly fighters. I couldn't bear an accident.   
  
Donatello is Ko. I know its easy to just classify him as our scientist, our logic, our voice of reason. I know its easy to just think of him as the analytical one. But he's the one with the true sense of justice. He of all of us is most reluctant to kill, to consider other options, and to recognize that sometimes, living with defeat, or failure, or the crushing recognition of what you've done wrong is the truest punishment of all.   
  
Honor? Gi? That's Master Splinter. Nobody embodies it to me more. That is what I want to embody, someday, and that's why right now I concentrate on what I can embody: Rei, respect.   
  
But Jin -- Jin is Michealangelo, through and through. Our compassion. Our heart. Our soul. I think all of us could bear the loss of any of us better than we could bear the loss of Michaelangelo.   
  
So when I realized he'd disappeared for the second time in two days, maybe you can understand why the second time I was maybe not so forgiving. He came in, arms full of books -- where had he _ been, _ the public library? Wearing his traditional clothes, and bouncing, happy, after his weird performance of the day before -- and I sort of just snapped.   
  
"Mikey! Where have you been! You've been gone for five hours! I know you went surfaceside this time. You're obviously dressed for it. You're acting irresponsible and totally unlike yourself, and I demand an explanation!"   
  
"Yeah," Raphael said, drawing out the word. "Mikey. Actin' irresponsible. Yeah, that's a real first." He grumped his way over to the fridge and got out a pop; I ignored him.   
  
And that...is when my brother, the fun loving Michaelangelo, began trying to convert me to a new religion. And Don, and Raph, and Master Splinter too as he'd come into the room, obviously wanting to hear the explanation as much as I did.   
  
I heard his story about Tamika and Rachel of course, but hearing him drone on and on -- and it did start to sound like a drone after about the first three seconds -- about salvation and sin and stuff -- it was surreal. He was obviously really happy but...   
  
"Mikey," Donnie said gently, when Mikey came up for air, "You keep pointing back to 'the Bible says' as evidence for your...beliefs. What makes the Bible an authority? You can't point to a source you haven't validated."   
  
That stopped Mikey short. He paused, then beamed. "I don't know yet, but I'll find out and get back to you!"   
  
Raph snorted. "Please don't."   
  
But Mikey had already bounded out of the room, heading to go do...do Bible Study. I felt like the brother I knew had been taken away from me somehow.   
  
"Don't worry," Donatello said suddenly. "This is just a phase. He'll get over it."   
  
"Would it be so bad if he did not?" Splinter asked thoughtfully, and all of us frowned at him.   
  
"Master Splinter, you heard him." I said. "He sounded totally crazy. That's going to be hard to live with."   
  
"Harder than the Great Michaelangelo Burping Chorus?" Master Splinter asked, his tone serious but his eyes twinkling.   
  
And I had to admit that the Burping Chorus was probably more obnoxious than religion any day. Still.   
  
"Lets talk about something else." Donatello said suddenly, pointedly looking at Raph. "Lets talk about where 16 of my 45 Bugs went."   
  
"What the hell? Do you check that stuff every day?" Raph demanded.   
  
"You bet I do! Now fess up! What did you do with my Bugs?"   
  
"Raphael," I said, and grew more upset by the fact that the exasperation in my tone also sounded a little like a whine. I crossed my arms.   
  
"Bugged Shredder's car," Raph said, shrugged, and took a swig of his coke.   
  
"You what?" Donnie and I said the words in unison. Splinter sighed and shook his head. Raph looked defiant.   
  
"When did this happen?" I asked, trying to sound casual.   
  
"Look, who cares?" Raphael demanded, suddenly angry.   
  
I felt a pounding sensation in my head and neck, and knew that a migraine was very near. That was something I'd never shared with my brothers, or Master Splinter. I get these horrid headaches. Caffine sometimes helped, so I went to get a coke, but fighting never did. I took a long swig of my drink and said, "You know what? Maybe we've all just had a strange day, and we should just drop this. Nobody got hurt, and maybe some good will come out of it."   
  
I think I wasn't the only one who understood I was talking about _ two _ impulsive turtles. Uncharacteristically, that seemed to get under Don's shell.   
  
"Leo!" He said.   
  
"No, really," I said. "I'm really actually kind of interested to see what your invention can do. I think Raph maybe did a good thing. And admit it, Donnie, you know you were dying to see it too."   
  
Donnie cracked a half smile. "Well yeah."   
  
Warming to it, I continued: "That's what makes us a team. We make up for each other's weaknesses. Raph's passion and drive is the strength that the rest of us lack."   
  
Raph was giving me this big surprised grin that he was trying to hide with a swagger. Master Splinter nodded gravely, smiled a little smile, and excused himself from the room. He made me feel like I'd hit this point of wisdom I'd been missing before. I filed that away. I'd been trying to make Raph conform to my idea of how the team should work...maybe as the elder brother and leader I ought to concentrate on how to play our strengths just right. Even if our greatest strengths and our greatest weaknesses seem to be all but identical.   
  
And Raph...Raph actually smiling at me...it was nice. I offer him a high five and he claps it back, and Donnie finally just smiles. I was hit by a sudden odd thought. Did Raph look up to me? Did he always push so hard because I had never stopped to give him a compliment or appreciate his efforts before? When was the last time I'd told Raphael he'd done a good job?   
  
That was a sobering thought. I finished up my drink and said, "I'm headed to my room. I'll see you guys later on."   
  
I needed to think, and for that, I needed my violin.   
  
You see, one year ago April had gotten on her feet again. She'd gotten a big job with a robotics firm that focused on healing nanotechnology. It was exactly what she'd needed, something that she knew would help people and not destroy them. The paycheck was also far and away better, according to her, than what she'd gotten from Stockman. But she'd gotten used to living small, so She asked us to all pick out gifts. I asked for the violin, but wanted it kept secret. It always seems like each of us knows every single thing about each other. I needed something of my own. I needed something that wasn't martial arts, but didn't want to hurt Splinter's feelings with that need. Someday maybe I'll play for him though.   
  
Besides the violin is a little like martial arts to me, each note like its own maneuvar, each song like its own kata, both things I can lose myself in the rythm of. Not when I started out, teaching myself scales and Mary Had A Little Lamb. But today, I think, is the day when I'm going to dig out the Vivaldi sheet music April had smuggled to me with a big wink just a few weeks ago. I played for her because she already knew, and it was nice to have an audience.   
  
I tried to play the Autumn concerto because it seemed so appropriate to the season. I'll never be a great musician, but I'd like to strive for competant and enjoyable. I know my talent is in the martial arts and wouldn't have it any other way. And wonder if, when I finally do as Mike did today and don my hakama and gi for the special occasion, playing for Master Splinter, if he will smile as he had smiled earlier that day in the kitchen. It was a nice thought, and it lent a strength to my playing that I'm sure I usually lacked.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** Violin. Totally made up. But it was one of the elements that popped into my head when I thought up this story that wouldn't leave me be.   
  
I keep noting dumb typos whenever I go back and reread what I've posted to prep myself for the next chapter. I promise I'll keep fixing them as I spot them. Chapter 5 especially seems rather full of them...my apologies!! The whole "narration" effect of this story has me switching tenses constantly. I want to tell this in past tense, it wants to be written in a present tense form. Hopefully I've caught them all...   
  
Review Acknowledgements: So I posted up Chapter 5 with this note that nobody had reviewed 4, then the reviews for 4&5 poured in. Thanks!!   
  
Daydream: Thanks for that helpful advice and continued encouragement!   
  
Ramica: Yup, this will be an End Times fic. I'm just taking my time about getting it there.   
  
Kristen: Thanks, and I will definately keep it up. I'm having too much fun not to!   
  
Until next chapter! 


	7. Fire in the Sky

7 

  
  


Don 

  
  
After Leo left I decided to catch some t.v. I was still a little mad, but he was right, there was no point in fighting over it. I plopped down on the sofa and turned on CNN. A minute later Raph joined me, casually seating himself on the other end and leaning back to put his arms above his head.   
  
My mood improved when I saw the focus of that day's reports. Chaim Rosenzweig, the scientist whose career I'd been following.   
  
_ "This is Cameron Williams of CNN coming to you live from Israel, where I stand in the middle of a fertile field where the desert sands once glared up at the sun. Here with me is the author of this miracle, Dr. Chaim Rosenzweig..._   
  
"Whoa," Raph said. "You mean that guy actually managed to grow stuff in the desert?"   
  
"Yeah! He's been writing about it in the journals for months now, but it seems like he's finally turned the theory into an honest formula."   
  
On the television, Dr. Rosenzweig was insisting that he was a simple botanist, nothing more. I found that a little bit silly, but you had to like someone so humble and enthusiastic.   
  
Then a soldier ran onto the screen and began talking earnestly to Williams and Rosenzwieg in Hebrew. Williams turned to the camera, looking alarmed and said, _ "We're going to have to move this broadcast to the interior of a military bunker. Radar has apparently detected an attacking force from the north, possibly Russian."_   
  
Chaos filled the screen as they got themselves to where they belonged, and all the while Williams continued his commentary. _ "Its been confirmed that the attack force is indeed Russian. It...it looks like they've brought out every single plane they have! To say the Israelis are surprised by this attack is like saying the Great Wall of China is long...and it doesn't look like they're going to be able to get a defense in the air in time. This is looking really grim here,"_   
  
I found I was leaning on the edge of my seat. Normally war reports didn't interest me much, but Rosenzweig and his formula were in danger of being destroyed in those instants. Then the camera caught a shot of the radar screen.   
  
"Um, why are the bad guy's planes disappearing like that?" Raph asked.   
  
I shook my head. Like I knew anything more than he did! Then Cameron Williams suddenly darted back outside.   
  
He tilted the camera towards the sky and didn't say a word as raging balls of fire flared and still more debris fell. Not a single chunk hit him, though there were peices of planes that fell within eyeshot of the camera. Eventually all was left were the falling streaks of fire, and that's when Williams spoke again: _ "Ladies and gentlemen, it looks as if the entire Russian attack force has spontaneously detonated. It will take some time to figure out exactly what happened here, but it seems as though we have witnessed a miracle. This is Cameron Williams, CNN news." _ It quickly cut to anchors who began immediate commentary and phone calls.   
  
I felt frozen, even a little sick. No natural phenomena could have caused that.   
  
"Miracles," Raph grumbled. "Man! Has everyone freaking got God on the brain lately?"   
  
"I don't know," I said, still staring at the television without really seeing it. "I don't know."   
  
"C'mon," Raph said. "Enough of this stuff. I'm gonna go check my email for a Bug report. Come with me."   
  
I stood up on knees that had gone weak. I couldn't even begin to sort out the full signifigance of what I'd just seen, other than perhaps a reporter who had some sort of huge award in his future. I followed Raph in a sort of numb cloud, wondering if I had the guts -- yes, the guts -- to talk to Mikey about what I'd just witnessed.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** Cameron Williams is another Left Behind character. Now in _Midnight Cry_, I have messed with him a bit. In the books he was a print reporter for "Global Weekly Magazine." In the movies, he was a t.v. reporter for "GNN" which was supposed to stand for Global News Network, and which I got really irritated at because having him work for a "GNN" totally messes with something that happens later in the series. So I compromised, making him a CNN reporter, as I wanted the turtles to witness exactly what Williams witnesses in Isreal.   
  
Ramica: Yeah, I don't see Leo's music of choice being rock n' roll. Thanks for your warm commentary on the Leo-Raph relationship.   
  
Red Turtle: Woot! Thanks! As I get into the "meat" of this fic the encouragement is helpful.   
  
Daydream: Glad you continue to enjoy it!   
  
Lexy8: You've left me utterly speechless. Thank you for letting me know that the Lord has used me in this small fashion.   
  
Maria: Thanks! I will!   
  
Sorry this update took so long, I had some trouble with this chapter. 


	8. Conspiracy Transcript

8 

  
  


Raph 

  
  
Did I want to think about that whacked out news report? Hell no. And Donnie, jeez. He looked like he'd been hit in the back of the head with a board or somethin'.   
  
Definately time to find an excuse to kick some butt.   
  
I loaded up my email to a vast number of reports from the Bugs, and groaned. "What the hell is this?"   
  
Donnie blinked and smiled slightly. "The problem that I didn't get a chance to tell you about because you decided to use my invention half cocked. The Bugs don't know what's signifigant conversation and what isn't. I'd planned a 500 keyword algorithm that would make them send those conversations and not say, orders at a fast food restaurant, but since we never could decide what to do with them I didn't bother."   
  
He looked a little better and I was glad I'd asked, even if he had to be all smug about it. Gritting my teeth I opened each and every email. Some of them just had really innocuous (yeah, I know big words too. Wanna make something of it?) comments in it. Once there was a whole discussion on what kind of champaigne the Shredder liked. But about ten emails down I hit paydirt. The transcript went somethin' like this:   
  
_ "Thank you for agreeing to see me today, Mr. Oroko."   
  
"Your offer was most intriguing. Tell me what it is you would like my organization to accomplish."   
  
"This is all very sensative of course. Mr. Stonagal would not be pleased if --"   
  
"My organization, Mr. Smith, has been in the business of keeping secrets for longer than your nation has had a flag. Do not insult me or this conversation is over."   
  
"Of course. Well its like this. Have you heard of the Tri-Monatist movement?"   
  
"Yes. I keep up with such things. The movement to get the world on just three currencies: the dollar, the euro, and the yen."   
  
"Correct. Currently there is a senator with a great deal of influence over President Fitzhugh. Dalton White, from New York. Senator White thinks the move is a bad idea. We feel he ought to be persuaded otherwise. He has some holdings in Japanese companies. We'd like you to assassinate his wife. If we can make it look like his foreign dealings are with unethical organizations, then it will discredit him with the president...and the loss of his wife will knock him off balance and remove him as a problem. He's in Washington at the moment of course, but his wife is still here."   
  
"So you want us to be clear that it is a ninja killing."   
  
"Precisely. And as to the issue of payment..."   
  
"Ah. Just leave that here when we drop you off, Mr. Smith. And have another ready when its done."   
  
"Excellent."   
  
_ I hit the print button. "Well that was important. We'd better get this to Leo." I wanted to see if Leo really did appreciate what I'd done or if that was all just a buncha crap lip service to get everyone to shut up. I hoped it was for real though. "We gotta save the senator's wife, right? I mean the Foot, they're our sworn enemies and all..."   
  
Don looked at me and said, "Well I don't think April would appreciate it if she knew we knew the Foot was going to assassinate some poor woman and we did nothing."   
  
I had to snicker. Figures. With him, anything human equates back to April. Poor guy. They say I'm impulsive, but I've got the sense not to fall for a human. Even April.   
  
I grabbed the report and headed for Leo's room. I heard...what the hell? Classical music? I knocked really loud. No accounting for taste, jeez. "Yo, Leo, you gotta come out and see this."   
  
The music stopped like, right away. Then there was a bunch of scrambling around. I looked at Don and rolled my eyes. Its not like he was worried about wearin clothes or somethin', so what the hell? Don shrugged, lifting an eye ridge. Yeah, he was defiantely better. No need to dwell on some stupid news report that doesn't have anything to do with us anyway.   
  
Leo slid open his door, and I handed him the report. His eyes widened. "Alright. We'll need...we'll need an address, and a layout of the property...and get Mike, I want him ready."   
  
"I'll get him," Don said hastily, and ran off before we could say anything.   
  
Leo and I suddenly got all kinda awkward and shit. Finally he nodded and said, "Good job, Raph."   
  
And yeah, damn it, that's all I wanted to hear. That's all I usually wanted to hear. I grinned and punched him in the arm. He grinned and punched me back. Then we high fived and got ready to go kick some shell.   
  
Well yeah we punched each other!! What the hell, did you think we were gonna _ hug _??   
  
** Author's Notes: ** Sorry for the update wait! Lets see. Stonagal isn't mine, neither is President Gerald "Fitz" Fitzhugh. Left Behind again! The mysterious man psedonommed "Mr.Smith" is mine. The turtles and April and Splinter are not mine. Yes, its a pattern!   
  
Only one review to acknowledge this time. Jo Dawn: Thanks again for the helpful and encouraging comments! Its great to know people out there are enjoying the story.   
  



	9. Still the Same

8 

  
  


Mike 

  
  
When I got to my room I found I couldn't read. It had hit me that none of my brothers _ had _ liked what I had to say. Did they think of me differently now? Had I shifted everything around in the space of a day?   
  
Donnie knocked on my door, then slid it open, and I was sure of it. He had this totally weird look on his face. Like his stomach had dropped or something.   
  
"Don? Is something wrong?"   
  
Don shook his head very quickly. "No. Leo wants us in the living room. We've found out what Shredder's going to do next. You...you're coming right?"   
  
"Well yeah!" Suddenly I was more than eager to get out there and show that I was still one of the clan. And that becoming Christian hadn't suddenly deprived me of the ability to use my nunchuks!   
  
We went out into the living room. Leo looked up at us and flipped his cell shut. "April's on the way," he informed us. "According to the news the vote is in less than a week, so if they're going to do something it has to be done soon."   
  
I grinned. Leo, at least, had decided all was well. He had no thoughts that I wouldn't show up. Good old Leo. For once his stick in the mud attitude was really cool.   
  
"What about Casey?" Raph demanded. Raph and Casey I think sometimes were a little tighter than any of us. They got each other, you know? We all need friends outside of family I guess.   
  
"I don't think so," Leo said slowly. "April can help on the computer from behind the scenes, but Casey will want to get right in there. We're talking Senators and stuff. Things could be misunderstood and he could get arrested. Bad enough that we're practically going to be inviting the FBI, NSA, Secret Service, and the CIA to come investigate _ us _ if this doesn't go so well."   
  
"Whoa, alphabet soup!" I said. Was I trying too hard to act like my old self? Like, be more me than me? I hadn't changed that much but then again I had. For a moment I wanted to remind everyone I that I hadn't suddenly become, you know like, this hyper serious unfun prayer boy. Maybe that was wrong of me, I dunno. But it just seemed like all I'd do was push them away from me _ and _ God if I did this too much. Beside me Donnie seemed to relax a lot, which confirmed my suspicions.   
  
"Maybe we should alert him anyway," Don said slowly, "so he and April and Master Splinter could act as a back up if we _ do _ run into trouble with the...soup."   
  
"I think April can alert him if and when," Leo said dryly. "You know he wouldn't like being held out of the action."   
  
For once Raph didn't argue; in fact he seemed to be in an incrediably good mood. "Maybe we just oughta kidnap her and take her to where her husband's at, circumvent the Foot entirely."   
  
"Oh good plan, Raph," Don said. He, on the other hand, still seemed a little sullen. "Then the news will be full of a kidnapping instead of a murder."   
  
"Just a thought, bro," Raph said, smirking.   
  
Don glowered at him. Yup, things had officially gone surreal. Leo and Raph on good terms and Don sorta picking the fight. In the meantime, something had to be done.   
  
"Well since we're waitin' on April," I said with a grin, "I'm off to put the pizza in!"   
  
"What, pizza ain't against God's law?" Raph asked, his smirk widening.   
  
"God's law is love and I _love pizza_," I informed him solemnly.   
  
And then we were all laughing, even Don, and I knew everything was gonna be just fine...as long as of course we didn't have any trouble with Leo's alphabet soup.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** Sorry the update took so darn long!! There's those chapters you run across that are basically Necessary Transition Chapters. This was one of those and I hate, hate, hate them. Coming soon: plans and tangling with the Foot!   
  
Jo Dawn: Glad you liked it and thanks!   
  
Red Turtle: Yeah, the attack from the Russians is straight out and out from Left Behind. There are some problems with that interpretation but as I'm writing a crossover fic I made the decision not to mess with the main events.   
  
Ramica: Yup, a little assassination and Mayhem before their Wheaties is just what the Foot ordered!   
  
Orange Turtle: You're in my thoughts and prayers, and thank you for being so honest.   
  
Daydream: Thanks! Hopefully the updates will start coming just a little faster.   
  



	10. A Mission Gone Wrong

Leo 

  
  


10 

  
  
The very next night the four of us were stationed about the home of the Senator's wife. We were painted from head to shell in black paint, and had abandoned our more colorful headgear for black.   
  
Don and April were up all night devising little robots called the Birds. Between the Birds, the Bugs, and the Alphabet Soup I was beginning to feel a little bit like I'd stepped into a petshop gone very wrong, but I had to admire their prowess. The two of them had whipped up mobile surveillance devices in the course of a day, which April now controlled from the sort of mission control station she and Don had put together on the same day.   
  
I do not know how ninjas _ ever _ got by without high technology.   
  
Please do not tell Master Splinter I said that.   
  
The plan, we'd decided, was to work with the Alphabet Soup if and when the arrived. If not we'd just fight. If they did we'd get their attention, point them towards the enemy, and run interferance while they shot down Foot until they did their Standard Operating Proceedure, which, according to Tom Clancy I think would be to get the target out of the house and into a car and driven somewhere safe. Raph and Mike concurred from their copious viewings of spy, terrorist, and other explosion related movies, and though April was a bit exasperated at our source material, she had to agree it made sense. Master Splinter pointed out it was what bodyguards in ancient Japan would have done so between all that I made the decision.   
  
I was stationed on the roof. I had Don stationed in the tree right outside Nancy White's window, as I figured of all of us he'd be least likely to get a cheap thrill from watching Mrs. White in her nightgown. Raph was stationed on the back deck, on the area we decided was the most likely point of entry for the majority of the Foot, and Mikey was on the side kitchen door, which was the other point of entry we would have picked had we been the murderers and not the protectors.   
  
My job was to help whoever got the largest concentration of fighters. Don was supposed to burst into Mrs. White's window and fend off attackers until the Soup got there, if they did. The one who wasn't at the larger point of entry kept an eye out for the back up assassins.   
  
We were all also armed with headsets that kept us in touch with April. I was feeling good. I was feeling Mission Impossible.   
  
A buzz in my ear: "The Birds have twelve," April said softly. "I see...six on Raph's post, three advancing on Mike's post and...three hanging back, I don't know what they're doing. I can't get a good enough view."   
  
I swung over the roof to land lightly beside Raph. "April, find out if Mikey can handle those on his watch." We could communicate with her but she could only communicate with all of us; we didn't have time to get hyper sophisticated with everything. There was a pause and she said, "He says he's good. Don says he in position."   
  
I took a deep breath and waited. Raph and I didn't look at one another, but I could hear him breathing. Our breathing now matched, a function of having trained together for so long. We waited until the first one cleared the rail of the deck to draw our weapons, and attack.   
  
Now in a fight, you really don't remember everything point for point. Not a real one anyway. You remember moments, brief flashes of it that stand out in your head and define that fight for you forever. It could be really dramatic, like holding the Sword of Tengu over your head and yelling, "Get away from my brothers!" at the top of your lungs (which I happen to think was really cool of me) or as mundane as a roll to the side at the right moment.   
  
What defines this fight for me is when I stood there, back to back with Raph, our chests heaving from the exertion, the Foot ninja on the ground all around us, and April's voice tinny in my ear as she yelled, "Repeat! Get out of there! There's a bomb!"   
  
"Shit!" Raph and I said it at once and dove for the bushes.   
  
Then April yelled, "Donnie!"   
  
I stood up, not sure what I planned on doing, and was blinded as the entire home became an insane conflagration of fire and light. Mike ran up to join us, his mouth open in fear and shock, and the three of us watched Donnie's body hurtle from the fire as if he'd jumped just in time, the innate form of Mrs. White tucked tightly in his arms. They rolled together. He slammed shell first into a tree, and then both of them fell into a heap.   
  
We ran for him. None of us even cared that the remaining foot strolled in front of the flames and brazenly tossed a sword into the dirt in front of the fire bearing the foot symbol.   
  
I suppose it was one way to make sure everyone knew it was the Japanese. I should have known that the Foot wouldn't fight like true warriors. Just dirty assassins.   
  
Mrs. White was unharmed. I disentagled her slowly from Donnie's arms and handed her to Raph. "Get her to the hospital. Make sure they don't register her under her own name."   
  
"Dude, that'll only help their objective!" Mike said, and he sounded really mad.   
  
"Mike, we rescued her. That's what we were here to do," I said as gently as I could. "We don't care about human politics, remember? And I need you to help me get Don back down under so April can help him. He's hurt badly."   
  
I was crying, cursing myself for taking us into things that had nothing to do with us, cursing Raph for bringing us the information in the first place, cursing Donnie for getting hurt, even though I'd virtually assured it by giving him the task that I had. He must have jumped into the room as soon as April warned us about the bomb.   
  
Raph slipped into the shadows with the senator's wife, already gone. Mike and I began carrying Don. As soon as I slipped my shoulder under his arm a gush of warm blood slid down between us. He was already bleeding from his eyes and his mouth and his nose, from places beneath his plastron...I was scared, damn scared. Mike was mumbling under his breath as we carried him. His head lolled back and forth whenever we jostled him, but he never once moaned in pain. Was Michelangelo praying? I hoped he was. I hoped it worked. And I wished in that moment that I knew how to pray like he did. Hoped that he'd been right about everything, because if he was I knew he could ask his new God for help, and his God would answer and everything would be okay.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** Am I over the writer's block hump? I hope I'm over the writer's block hump. It took me awhile to make the decision as to whether or not I was going to write this fight as a blow-by-blow or not. Despite the fact that fighting is a big part of TMNT I decided it wasn't really that central to this story and so decided to stick to the important parts rather than the details, and keep to the jist of the scene. Sorry for the huge wait! Expect the order of the chapters to change at this point, as I can't very well have Don narrating the next one. ;>   
  
Orange Turtle: Yup, I'm slow. It comes from being a perfectionist. It also comes from being a single mom. ;>   
  
Ramica: Heh. I hope Mike can show them. I guess this chapter didn't really work on that, but then, I think maybe that's been driven from their concern too...   
  
Jo Dawn: Heh. When you update it inspires me to update. Its creepy how that happens, JD...   
  
red turtle: You know...I'm not even sure how long _ this _ chapter ended up being...but I think I'm outta the woods. 


	11. Unfair

April 

  
  


11 

  
  
He looked so pale and young, hanging between the arms of his brothers. I put the sudden lump in my throat away and leaped into action, jabbing a syringe full of nanites into his arm. I'd stood there at the entrance to the lair with it prepared from the moment of the explosion, fighting off the sick, sad feeling in my stomach.   
  
I felt even sicker as I watched the silvery fluid pour into his arm. I wasn't sure how well this would work. The nanites are programmed with the knowledge of what the human insides are supposed to look like. When they find something wrong they simply set about fixing it. The problem is that we had no real ideas on how the turtles were different from humans internally. If his liver was the wrong shape...if there was some vital cell they carried about that we didn't know about...the nanites could kill him trying to heal him. It took everything I had to keep my hand from shaking.   
  
"Put him on his bed," I said, and my voice sounded strange to me. Mike was crying freely. Leo was trying to look stoic. I wanted to be left alone with Donnie to see what else I could do. To do something, anything, until I knew if my potentially deadly surgery had been carried out to a successful conclusion...or if I had killed him. Why oh why didn't we ever stop and befriend a doctor? You'd think all of us would be used to injuries by now. We've all had them. Life threatening ones. Even I have.   
  
But you don't get used to it. Five times or fifty, I at least will never get used to it.   
  
They got him on his bed, laying him on his stomach. Leo turned to me and looked me in the eye. He was very in touch with what members of his team were thinking and feeling, and that included me. He gripped my shoulder, maybe a little too tightly. "April. Whatever happens, we know you're doing all you can. Alright?" His voice sounded strange too.   
  
Mike cried a little harder, and I took a deep breath, torn between marveling that he'd already worked out for himself all the risks of what I'd just done, and wanting to dissemble. Finally I just nodded.   
  
"I need to go speak to Master Splinter about the events of this night," Leo said formally. He is more formal than any of them anyway, but when he's upset it gets even more stringent. His way of coping.   
  
"Mike," I said softly, "hand me my first aid kit and then I need you to go cook something. When he wakes up he'll be very hungry." In truth I just wanted Mike out of the room. If I had to watch him break down much longer I was going to do it too, and they needed me. They needed April O'Neil, brisk, efficient, the Wendy to their Peter Pan, the ill-placed, too young Mommy to their Lost Boys. And that was what I was going to do.   
  
"A big dinner?" Mike said, looking up at me with big brown eyes so trembly and hopeful that I nearly did lose my resolve.   
  
"Yes," I said firmly. Mike pushed the kit into my arms and fled the room. A moment later I heard pots and pans.   
  
Everyone needs to feel useful in a crisis. That's the one fundamental truth I've learned in those crises where my skills and my brains are not enough to help the guys. Leo has been kind enough to teach me a little martial arts. I could hold my own against the average street punk by now, I think, but sadly that's never the kind of trouble we're inviting into our chaotic lives. I think though, playing superhero makes them feel like a part of human society, an accepted part. Maybe it does make them a part of society as a whole. Who defines that? Who cares to?   
  
I took a deep breath and moved closer to Donnie. There was a huge crack now running down the left side of his shell. It didn't quite split it in half, nor did it run quite from edge to edge, but the inch or so before it stopped above the bottom of the shell was not encouraging. I opened my kit and pulled out miles and miles of Ace bandage. I reasoned that if I immobilized it, it should heal just like a broken bone, given enough calcium. The nanites wouldn't get into his shell very fast, and even if they did immobilizing it could only help the situation.   
  
I began to wish I hadn't sent the boys out of the room so soon as I considered the situation. After all Donnie was pretty heavy. I needed to lift him up a bit without hurting him.   
  
"Now how would you solve this problem, Donnie? If you didn't have time to whip up a robot, that is?" He didn't answer of course, but it made me feel better to talk to him. I hoped he could hear me.   
  
I started dragging chairs to either side of the bed, quietly so nobody would interfere. Then a tied ace bandage across them and slid them as best I could under his body. It took me way too long and I was sweating, but finally I was able to pull the chairs out and thus lift him the half inch off the bed that was all that I needed. And then when I was done all I'd have to do was push the chairs back against the bed and it would lower him down. Satisfied with the solution I began to wrap his shell, reaching across and under him. "If you die on me after making me do all this work I'll be furious with you."   
  
Joking definately helped. The more I worked, the more I joked, the more convinced I became that he would have to be alright.   
  
I tied off the bandages as tightly as I could and then let him down. Then I ran my fingers over his skin to figure out if there was anything else wrong. It was the first time I'd ever done anything like that really. He was cool and smooth to the touch. And nothing was wrong. A clash of pans in the other room made me realize I'd given him the once over more than once and I drew my hand back, blushing.   
  
What was wrong with me? He was younger. He wasn't even my species! But I felt a connection to him that I wouldn't dare admit. I guess everyone sees something between Casey and I. And yes, Casey's handsome. And yes, Casey has a way of making you feel safe. A little _ too _ safe if you want to know the truth. I'm also worried that to me, the only thing that makes Casey and I a natural pairing is that he's the only other human who isn't also an enemy that knows about my unusual friends. That's not a basis for a relationship. Its not.   
  
Different species.   
  
I took a deep breath and got myself back into brisk Mommy Mode. I checked his pulse. It seemed a little stronger, but no more stable. I grabbed some disinfectant wipes and started cleaning his more open wounds, wiping the dried blood off. I used the entire box before I was done. The trash can in Don's room was full to overflowing. I didn't know what to do with all of it so I ended up standing in a flood of dirty antiseptic wipes, up to my knees in a literal way in Donnie's blood.   
  
I shuffled through them and started bandaging them all up, all the ones I could find, and then dropped to my knees beside his bed. Now I was alone. Now I'd done all I could. Now I could cry. And I did, burying my head in my arms and trying not to make any noise while I sobbed. And how childish of me, for I was crying not only out of worry, but at the sudden thought that all of it was terribly, incomprehensively unfair.   
  
** Author's Note: **** Yay! I really am over my block! I wrote this too fast to get any reviews on Chapter 10 to acknowledge here, heh. **


	12. A Social Comment

Raph 

  
  


12 

  
  
I was runnin' through the streets of the suburbs with a DIP in my arms. That's Turtle for Dead Important Person. Well 'cept she wasn't really dead, but if someone caught me she may as well have been...damn it.   
  
And why the hell couldn't I stay with Don while Leo did the running around town, huh? Ain't I worried about Donnie too? Ain't he the leader? Supposed to take the hard jobs?   
  
My brain is nothing but a crossfire of damnits and worse, but I know some people got sensative ears so I won't clue you in on most of it. Jesus. At least I was all in black. And no, that ain't the Mikey Jesus, that's the me Jesus, which makes for a nice explosive word.   
  
Finally I spotted just what I needed. A nice covered bus stop, with nobody nearby. As long as the bus didn't show up then we were fine. Thunder rolled and a real hard rain got started. I guessed the fire would be out soon, if the fire engines hadn't taken care of it already.   
  
I laid Her Highness inside of the bus stop so she wouldn't get wet. It was then I realized that _ Don _ had knocked her out. How did I know this? Cause there was a little knock out drug patch right on her neck. His design. Is there nothin' Don don't dabble in? He's a caffine addict. Stays up all night. By now he's got tools and tricks even we don't know about. But I knew this was his...that's sort of an embarrassing side story about me and smoking and quitting...don't ask. Anyway it was green and purple striped which was also sort of a damn dead giveaway. He must of leaped in, slapped it on, and leaped out. She wouldn't remember nothin', least of all huge turtles._ Yay Donnie. Yer smarter than all of us and now you're dying cause you're so fucking noble. _   
  
That thought hurt too much to really pursue so I sprinted across the street to the phone. I called 911, said there was a woman laying across the street in her nightgown, ran over, grabbed the patch, and then disappeared onto some rich person's roof to watch.   
  
Can I make sorta a social comment? 911 response time in New York City. 2 hours. 911 response time in Swank City? 2 minutes. Yup, I timed it. I really don't like rich people. There's people out there who spend a good year's salary on one set of clothes while our friends among the homeless starve. I met the homeless humans and I researched it. Now some of 'em, some of 'em are nuts. And some of them were just happily screwed over with those with more money and power than them. I think we oughta grab all of the latter and expand the Turtle Clan, but Splinter, he don't like us talking to humans (though he's got a real thing for women in distress) and Leo, he's all cautious...bah. Kill any traitors. That's bushido too ain't it?   
  
So she went safely on to the hospital and I went on towards the bridge home. Another solo mission successfully performed by the King of Stealth, Raphael. I wasn't quite as satisfied with this one though.   
  
The rain was washing my paint off but nobody was around. Man it was a long walk. The other two had already taken the van. My hog was in the back of the van. That string of damn its started up again. I wanted to go home. I wanted to sneak into my big brother's room and make sure he was alive. I wanted to forget I'd ever had this stupid, stupid idea. Bugs. I was gonna turn off that program when I got home. Don for the life of some socialite human was not a decent trade in my book.   
  
"Bastard," I snarled aloud, and I didn't know who I meant. Me? Him? Shredder? The Senator whose wife we'd just saved?   
  
I was so tied up in knots that I didn't notice the headlight until it was damn near on top of me. The motorcycle was headed for me at top speed. I had about a five second 'oh shit' freeze before I enacted my Ninja Get The Hell Outta The Way maneuvar. That is where you leap to the side and roll and yelp a lot because you've just fed the pavement a nice stretch of your skin.   
  
I didn't care what the driver saw. I stood up and shook my fist at him. "Watch it asshole!" Then I turned to continue walking. "Yeesh."   
  
The motorcycle did a quick spin, turned, and sped back up in my direction, then executed another half turn and stopped right in front of me. For a moment there wasn't another sound except the thrumming of the engine and the sound of the rain hitting the pavement. I glared at the driver, who I couldn't quite make out, figuring he was getting himself an eyeful.   
  
Then the driver stopped the cycle and slid off its back, pushing the visor up on his helmet.   
  
Casey.   
  
I relaxed. "Jeez man. I know I kicked your butt on our last spar but that's no reason to try to run me down. Did the guys send you to pick me up?"   
  
Casey's full armed punch caught me on the side of the head and sent me flying. "No!" He said, prepping for another punch. "I monitored the police channels. Somewhere between hearing about an explosion, a Japanese sword, and some woman being left abandoned on a park bench while someone called 911 and ran away, I started to think, 'hmm, haven't heard from my pals the turtles in awhile, maybe I should check it out.' And here you are. And it looks like I got cut outta the action."   
  
I stood up and rubbed my jaw, fighting down the urge to show him what a real punch was. This was not the time for a friendly fight, and an unfriendly one...well I don't really ever want an unfriendly fight with Casey. So I restrained myself, though he tensed anyway. I knew I had the Royal Smackdown look in my eye. "Now look, Casey,"   
  
He tried to punch me again. I high blocked this time and twisted my wrist to grab his arm. "Are you gonna talk or are you gonna punch?" I demanded. "Cause I can punch just fine." Then I stepped under his arm and twisted it up. Its a nice move. Leaves guys on their tippie toes. Holds 'em in place. Doesn't leave no marks...which is why I hardly ever freaking use it. I grabbed his other arm and twisted it behind his back while he was about to elbow me with it -- a dumb move, what's he think this plastron's made of, cotton?   
  
He grunted at me. "Alright, put me down. But I deserve to know what the hell is going on."   
  
I put him down. Then I outlined it for him, real quick, then said, "We didn't want you gettin' in trouble with the FBI and shit."   
  
"You could have /told/ me and let me make that decision for myself. I ain't a little kid, Raph. You turtles can't keep protecting me like I am just cause I'm human."   
  
Hmm. _ Leo didn't want us to sounds way too lame._ "Yeah," I said, hoping 'yeah' would cover it. Yeah is a great all purpose word. It says absolutely nothing while sounding like it says perfectly everything. "Drive me home? Don's got messed up bad."   
  
Casey doesn't really like Don. Don does not really like Casey. I don't understand all of what the hell is going on there. Somewhere behind "know it all" and "idiot" mutterings is something about April, which I don't get because it seems like a no-brainer to me. Casey is human. April is human. Therefore Donnie ought to back off.   
  
But be damned if I'm gonna talk to Donnie about romance for cryin' out loud, besides he never does nothing overt.   
  
Casey understands that _ I do _ like Donnie though, and he motioned me to the back of his hog. He tossed me a spare helmet and we sped off into the night, back into the city proper. I hoped he'd swallow his arguement with Leo. Leo did not know the right delivery of the word 'yeah'.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** You knew Casey Jones had to rear his pretty head in here somewhere, right? Right. Freaking teddy bear nutball. I don't even know if I like him or not. Ah well, on with the show!   
  
Ramica: At your review I went and sought out some of that research on the net myself and now plan to have some fun with that in later chapters.   
  
Jo Dawn: Now hopefully I'm not mirroring _ your _ intro of Casey too much. But I knew it was time to bring him in.   
  
Maria: Thanks!   
  
Ziptango: I cower before the Cliffhanger Police! Therefore this is my quickest update in awhile, heh.   
  
Lexy8: Thanks so much! I'll take all the compliments on my writing I can get. ;>   
  
Crash77A: This is based on the new TV series. I used to watch the old one and that is what got me hooked. I watched Movie I and Movie III. That said as I understand it the Fox Box cartoon is closer to the comic book--and I feel its grittier, a little truer to life, and the characters are more real to me. As an adult the new cartoon appeals to me far more than the old, especially as April is a far stronger and more competant woman in the new one. As for your suggestions on souls...believe me that issue is not done yet! 


	13. Grappling

Mike 

  
  


13 

  
  
I sort of spaced out. So the first thing that I really noticed was that I was burning the food. I don't even really remember what I was trying to cook, only that for the first time in nearly ten years I had created a totally disgusting mess.   
  
At first I didn't know what was wrong with me. We've had lots and lots of scares like this. I scraped all the muck into the trash and put my hand on the refridgerator door and tried to figure out what was different this time. Then it hit me.   
  
I was a Christian now, so why had God let this happen?   
  
I felt like someone who like, thinks they've won that Publisher's Clearinghouse thing but when they send in for a prize discovers they've won some fakey ring.   
  
I had done everything right. I'd prayed for our safety before we left, read some of the Bible, everything. So it was all supposed to go off without a hitch! We were the good guys. God should have taken care of us before, but even more now!   
  
I slammed the dirty pot into the sink as hard as I could. The noise it made brought a little relief, but not much. For the first time in my life I wanted to smash things and yell and scream like Raph would have. Instead I stared down at the burnt crud that yours truly would be the one cleaning up later and trudged back to the fridge. I decided I'd skip the culinary masterpiece, you know, whatever it was, and get down with something simple instead. At least hamburgers required me to shape the things and you know, maybe get my mind off things.   
  
God though, you know, he's sort of a hard dude to predict, and I guess He wasn't done talkin' yet. He talks different now than He did in the Old Testament. He doesn't burn bushes or anything. But I guess He always finds a way to get His point across. Master Splinter walked in, sniffing at the air.   
  
"It seems you have burned the food, my son. That is a first for you."   
  
"Sorry Master Splinter," I mumbled. "I'm makin' something else now."   
  
"As I see." Master Splinter sat down across from me and folded his hands on the top of his cane. "I heard a pot slam. I suspect you are angry about what happened to your brother."   
  
Then it all spilled out of me. "God didn't help! That's what's got me mad. Maybe I don't get everything about being a Christian yet cause I read to slow but He didn't help! What's the good of having God with us if the dude isn't gonna help!"   
  
Master Splinter was slow to answer. You know that's somethin' I really love about him? He doesn't just blurt somethin' out, he really thinks about what I say. "So no Christians in the world get hurt, Michealangelo?"   
  
I opened my mouth, then shut it, and looked down. Tamika had gotten killed, after all. But I hadn't gone lookin' into Christianity cause it had made Tamika invincible. It had been what was inside her. And now maybe where I think we're headed too. Heaven.   
  
"Think you perhaps that you have the right to be special out of all of those in the world, and not feel fear or hurt? How then will you have compassion for others when they feel these things?"   
  
I was real slow about the hamburger I was making. I nodded, though, to let him know I got it.   
  
"And perhaps God is helping. Perhaps he is simply not helping as quickly as Michaelangelo would like. There may be a reason for what is happening."   
  
"Man, Master Splinter, you sound like more of a Christian than me!"   
  
Which was dumb considering I'd been one 2 days and counting.   
  
"I took the opportunity of your absence to borrow some of your books," Splinter said slowly, solemnly. "Having been born a rat these things are not things I have ever given much thought to, but they made a certain level of sense to me. They are not incompatible with the eastern worldviews I studied in the hopes of emulating my Master Yoshi. Therefore it is a path I have decided to follow. I have spoken to God and we have made our peace. I am old. It is time to give consideration to these things."   
  
Its really really hard to tell you how I felt right then. I was still worried sick and upset over Don, but I was suddenly real happy too. All I can say is I knew right then and there I was never going to lose my dad, and well, that was a great feeling.   
  
Not everyone thought so though.   
  
"So. You've decided to take Master Splinter away on this kick of yours."   
  
I looked up to stare at Leo, who was glaring at me. He took a step into the room. "Donnie is hurt and all you can talk about is this stupid religion of yours? Don't you care?"   
  
"Leonardo," Splinter said sharply.   
  
For once Leo did not apologize. He clenched his fists and stared at me. "As leader of the clan I order you to stop trying to convert us. In fact I order you not to even talk about God. Is that clear?"   
  
Then, I was mad. I wiped the hamburger meat off my hands and stood up. "Yeah, bro," I said. "Clearly uncool. I know you're upset but that's no reason to -- "   
  
Leo's fist flew at my nose.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** Heh. I know Mike v. Leo is a weird combo, but he has his reasons! A few other comments. I have raised the rating on my story due to the swearing. I looked back over it and noted that Raph is the only one swearing, with a single exception where Leo's facade cracks a little and he does as well. I am trying not to make it gratuitious, but to stay true to the story I am hearing in my head. Therefore characters swear if I feel like they would swear, and do not if they would not. I understand that they don't at all during the cartoons, but I'm attempting to portray them as real people in a real world.   
  
Crash77A: See comments above. :)   
  
Ramica: Thanks for the encouragement!   
  
Red Turtle: Thank you for your kindness. :) You made my day when I saw this review.   
  
In The Clouds: Thank you very much!   
  
Maria: Thanks!   
  
Jo Dawn: Thanks!   
  
Devanstaar: I hope I shall continue to provide enjoyment and manage to be true to both series.   
  
Until next time! 


	14. Leadership Lessons

Leo 

  
  


14 

  
  
It was like my heart was suddenly gripped in someone's hand, a big iron hand that was squeezing me, forcing anger out that wasn't normally there and making me do something about it. A stab of shame was enough to losen the hand though. I pulled the punch.   
  
Mikey had leaped out of the way anyway. He raised a big hunk of hamburger meat. "I have raw meat and I'm not afraid to use it, dude!"   
  
Another stab of shame. He was trying to make me laugh. I stared down at the ground. "Sorry Mike. Sorry Master Splinter. That was out of line."   
  
Mike sat down and went back to his cooking. "We're all a little on edge, dude. No harm no foul, you know?"   
  
"But a Leader," Master Splinter said, staring at me really hard, "must always strive to keep himself under control."   
  
"Yes, Master Splinter."   
  
What else was I going to say? That on top of everything else, on top of all the guilt and worry that I was feeling, that when I walked in to the kitchen and found Mike doing his proselytizing that I was hit with jealousy and all the anger that comes with that? Yeah, great thing to admit to. If Splinter was now following this religion of Mike's, then maybe he and Mike would get really close and then I would be pushed to the side.   
  
Or maybe that I like things to stay pretty much the same, and Mike was changing things. Slowly, sure, quietly, sure, but it was happening. Adventures are okay, as long as one can always come home to a place that stays constant and safe.   
  
"So that stuff about me not talkin' about God anymore," Mike said. He was trying to sound casual but I could still hear a lot of tension in his tone.   
  
"It never happened." I said. I said it real fast and Mike grinned and Splinter grunted. Good enough for me.   
  
"Do you think Raph will get back okay?" I asked. Time to change the subject, the quicker the better. "We sort of ditched him without any transportation."   
  
"Nice of ya to remember." Raph followed his sardonic comment into the kitchen. Casey Jones followed him. That hand came back, squeezing as hard as it could. What was Raph thinking, bringing Casey at a time like this? Casey was a good guy, but he was also loud, belligerent, uncultured, and you could cut the tension between him, Don, and April with a katana when you got the three in a room together.   
  
My pride was getting bruised left and right tonight. Bruised? No, scratch that. My pride was getting its butt kicked. "We had other things to focus on." I snapped it out. Raph's eyes flashed. _Here we go again._ That thought was from the side of me that was still feeling adult and reasonable.   
  
"Next time," Raph snapped, "you do the dirty work. You do the hard thing. You're the leader. The fact that you were the one under Don's shoulders won't make a bit of difference in helping him get well. Just in case you had this notion of your divine powers sealing up his wounds or somethin'."   
  
He was right. I knew he was right. I was also hurt by it. But before I can answer him Casey jumped in. Nothing like kicking a man when he's down: "Yeah, and none of this woulda happened if you hadn't tried to cut me out of the action, Leo."   
  
Mike pushed a knife and an onion into my hand. "I need you to slice these, bro," he said cheerfully, just as if the stress in the room wasn't reaching epic proportions. Splinter was suspiciously silent, observing everything. I took the onion. I sat. I sliced. I fumed. The only sound in the room for a moment was my knife thunking wetly against the cutting board. Onion-smell filled the air and everyone wrinkled their nose. I struggled to modulate my tone, because I felt I needed to answer all of this.   
  
"I am not ready to argue about this now." I thought that sounded alright. "We're not going to get into a contest of blame either." Pause, thunk. Every onion slice was a chance for me to evaluate what I was saying. "Just because I am leader does not mean I am perfect. The decisions were made. For whatever reason, good or bad. I'll stop to figure out how what I did can be fixed next time later. But I am not going to apologize for making them, and making them decisively."   
  
"Next time," Casey said, "you at least tell me your reasons about Feds or whatever else before you cut me out." Raph must have told him a bit. It was a weird statement Casey had just made though. I'd assumed if Casey knew he'd force his way in no matter what. Now it was sounding like he'd abide by my decisions. Curiouser and curiouser.   
  
Splinter, to my surprise, gave me an approving nod. Apparently I'd just redeemed myself somehow, but I'm not sure how because as best as I could tell I was just touting my authority again.   
  
"I'm gonna go see Don," Raph grunted. He whirled around and stalked out of the room. I decided April could deal with him if she didn't want him in there.   
  
That brought up all my fear and worry again. I knew those nanites weren't programmed for our physiology. It was the only shot Don had, but it was such a long shot. I focused on the onion, on getting it sliced as perfectly as possible. He was still breathing. Therefore there was still hope. _ Donatello. You're under strict orders not to die._   
  
At that thought I gave a weird little laugh that sounded all wrong and made everyone look at me funny, then pushed the cutting board over to Mike, which I had filled with perfectly shaped onion medallions.   
  
** Author's Notes:** Hopefully I've regained my Leo-credibility here. I wasn't totally comfortable with the end of the last chapter myself, the more I looked at it, but decided it could be righted in-story.   
  
Lexy8: Thanks for the reassurance! Believe me I needed it for writing Leo's momentary lapse.   
  
RskimB: Thank you!   
  
Ramica: Again, thanks for the reassurance.   
  
Red Turtle: Red, thanks for the honesty. And you're right, it was a little didactic (you've taught me a new word you know). Must be that unlucky 13.   
  
Maria: Thanks!   
  
In The Clouds: Heh. Who ever gets tired of hearing something like that?   
  



	15. Sides Unseen

April

  
  


15

  
  
I must have dozed off, because the next thing I really became aware of was someone moving around the room. For a minute my mind tried to make the rustling plastic bag noises make some sort of sense in a way that would allow me to not lift my head. I was, I discovered, really tired, more exhausted than what I had been doing should have allowed for.   
  
The noises continued and for some reason I couldn't make any logical conclusions about them, so I finally lifted my head to the surprising sight of Raph picking up all of the dirty disinfectant wipes. He wasn't even grumbling about it. He'd just grabbed a plastic grocery bag and was moving around the room, scooping them up. Our eyes met and I braced myself for some comment on how he'd found me.   
  
The comment never came. "Hey," he said.   
  
"Hey," I said back.   
  
He scooped up the last of the wipes and tied the garbage bag shut, then tossed it over by Donnie's overflowing trash. He pointed to my ace bandage job. "He got a cracked shell?"   
  
He sounded like he didn't care but I knew better. "Yeah."   
  
He grunted. "You didn't do that right then."   
  
I felt a stab of annoyance but he didn't give me time to voice it. "I'll be right back," and he walked out. Without standing up I gave the room a closer look. Except for the trash, everything looked a little straighter. I've never been in Raph's room. I've always assumed it was really messy. The idea that Raph would even think of cleaning was foreign to me. Then again, as much energy as he spent on trying to make sure nobody looked under his surface, is it any wonder we're not always accurate when we try to interpret what he's like?   
  
What he came back with though, that surprised me more. He had this stack of internet printouts which he thrust at me, and a paper bag. "That sums it up, but the gist of it is first you gotta clean the crack real good and then you gotta use epoxy glue to seal it up."   
  
I flipped through the printouts. They were from the website of a local wildlife advocacy association, so they were probably accurate. And there were the epoxy glue instructions in plain black and white. "Epoxy glue," I said, then stood up to grab some scissors. I wasn't about to try to lift Donnie all over again; I'd just cut the bandage off. "Is that what's in the bag?"   
  
Raph nodded. "Yeah. I downloaded this off the internet right after you got me the computer. I figured one of us would crack the hardware eventually. Was one of the first things I did with it."   
  
I stopped and stared at him for a moment. Had anyone gotten to see this side of Raph before? Not very often. Sure, I always knew he has a good heart under the tough talking, foul mouthed exterior. But all of this...consideration, foresight...its stuff I would have attributed to Don, or Leo, but never ever Raph.   
  
He grunted impatiently. "You gonna do it or what? You need help or something?"   
  
"Scissors," I said, sounding a little weird even to my own ears.   
  
"Oh." He put the bag of glue down by Don's bed, then drew his sai and sliced right through the bandages, as neatly as I could have asked for. I doubt Don's shell was so much as touched.   
  
"That'll do?" He asked.   
  
"That'll do," I said. We actually shared a grin. Then he caught sight of the crack and he started swearing. He stalked to the other side of the room so he could swear while I worked though.   
  
Disinfectant wasn't so hard. I already had that in my kit. I swathed liberal amounts over the crack, using up the rest of the bottle, which had been half full before I started. I waited for Don to stir or complain that it stung, but he never did. He was still breathing though. My hands were shaking by the time I applied the epoxy glue.   
  
The directions said to use a hairdryer to dry the glue faster, but I knew good and well there were no hairdryers here. It was ridiculous, but I leaned forward and started blowing gently across the crack, figuring that a little air couldn't hurt.   
  
Raph stopped his litany of curses all at once. It was like a switch had been thrown. I could feel his eyes on me. All at once I froze, unsure what to do.   
  
That's when he said: "Aw man. You really are in love with him."   
  
Author's Notes:Hope nobody's feeling too lost in the subplots here. This fic is intended to be pretty long. =>   
  
In The Clouds: Heh. Fast updates now will make up for all the times I'll get writer's block and not update again for another month and a half. ;>   
  
Crash77A: I knew I was going to be handling it in the next Chapter. I imagine the effect would be somewhat different if you were able to read this whole cloth instead of piece by piece.   
  
Jo Dawn: Heh. The overwhelming concensus does seem to be that Chapter 13 confused and upset everyone and Chapter 14 relieved everyone. ;> My pledge is though, I won't let 'em break character or seem to break character without a really good reason, or an idea that something underlying that is not always shown is what's influencing their behavior.   
  
Ramica: Thanks! Glad that it made sense: was worried after 13 and everyone's response to it that 14 would seem like crawfishing. Thanks for letting me know it worked. =>   
  
Devanstarr: The short answer is "Yes". The long answer is yes, but not all of the characters will come into play, you may see more of minor good guys and major villians than you do of major good guys from Left Behind, and you won't see much of any of them that you haven't already seen until the Rapture. 


	16. Simple Things

16

  
  


Raph

  
  
You know what? I hadn't meant to say that. It really just sorta popped outta my mouth. And then I felt bad, cause there was April, starin' up at me like I hit her or somethin'.   
  
"I love all of you. Like family." April said. Her voice was all stiff, and she had the weirdest look on her face. Like she had swallowed somethin' real big and was tryin' not to choke on it.   
  
I put up both my hands. I surrender! "Yeah, ok, whatever you say. Forget it." Hey, if she was gonna give me the openin' to get outta a conversation I didn't really wanna start anyway, I was gonna take it. I opened my mouth to let her know Casey was there and then snapped that closed. I wanna be out of the love lives of my friends and family. I figured she'd probably _ hear _ Casey soon enough anyway, though it was remarkably quiet from the kitchen.   
  
April stood up from the bed and gestured towards Don's shell. "That...it's..."   
  
"Finished?"   
  
"Yeah."   
  
We stood there staring at each other for a moment. Her lip was trembling. All at once she flung herself at me, wrapping her arms around me, as far as they'd go. She was crying.   
  
I ain't got no illusions about April. I figured she'd need to break down eventually. I just did not have myself pegged as the turtle she'd break down in front of. I'd think it would be Leo if anyone. She's sort of like a leader too, sorta like...like Leo's co-leader, because he respects her for her own expertise. He doesn't really order her around, he just suggests, you know? Two leaders like that, they can break down in front of one another and it should be ok. But April I guess doesn't really think like that.   
  
And it ain't like I minded or anything. I patted her back and let her get it all out. I was actually kinda flattered. If a girl comes to cry on your shoulder I guess it means she thinks you're a strong person, someone solid. I don't think she'd have gone to Mikey for cryin' out loud. And ok, maybe it was just timing, but again, I ain't got no illusions about her. If she hadn't felt comfortable she'd have gone off to be by herself. Of course maybe it had somethin' to do with me callin' her on her feelings for Don. I wasn't sure before I said anything, but now I was pretty sure. I didn't know what it meant for either one of 'em either. Aw, let them sort it out.   
  
"You must think I'm a wimp." April got that out around her sniffles.   
  
"I don't think you're a wimp," I said. And I didn't. Now if it had been one of my brothers, yeah, I'd have thought they were wimps. But jeez. This was April. Girls are built differently anyway. "You've held it together while you had to, that's all anyone cares about. Now you need to take a break. Take a break. I do it by hittin' stuff, you do it by cryin', don't see how one's better than the other or nothin'."   
  
"You're a lot smarter than we usually give you credit for," April said quietly, and I shrugged.   
  
"Whatever," I said. She was tryin' to go all deep and personal on me. Uh uh. No thanks.   
  
That's when Don stirred a little and murmured: "Don't cry...April. I'm...fine."   
  
We stared at each other for a moment, April and me, then we flew towards the bed. "Don!"   
  
He turned his head and gave us each a tired, spunky grin. "Do I smell hamburgers?"   
  
April put a hand on his arm. "You scared us," she said. For a wonder she sounded like she hadn't shed a single tear. She sounded brisk, almost motherly, like she was tryin' to put some distance between them. Aw man. See how I screwed this up?   
  
"Sorry," Don said, still smiling. Then he closed his eyes again. Sleeping more, which was fine. It meant he was healing. I sure didn't want him to stand up and have a burger. He needed the sleep more.   
  
April took her hand off his arm and stepped back to heave a heavy sigh of relief. "He's out of the woods," she said. "Come on, let's let him sleep and tell the others that the nanites worked. That's a relief. It also means they should work for any of you in the future."   
  
She was the first out of the room. I turned to look at Don. Yeah, great, nanites. Jeez. She'd forgotten we were cold blooded. One blanket? I went to my room and grabbed a few more. Then I unfolded 'em and dropped 'em over Don, one by one.   
  
Man. I'm surrounded by people who think so complicated they overlook the simple stuff.   
  
**Author's notes:** Thank all of you so much for your votes for the TMNT Fanfiction Awards! It seems according to the site that Midnight Cry won Best Crossover. Thanks everyone!  
  
We are now reaching a turning point in the story. The first 16 chapters were a sort of Part I...you can look for Part II to sort of kick off with the next chapter. The parts aren't formal, but relate more to how I have this whole story organized in my head.   
  
Ramica: *grins* Well I tend to feel there's more to our Raph than meets the eye. Thanks for alerting me to that formatting problem.   
  
Devanstarr: Hey, you're very welcome.   
  
Crash77A: Thanks for the tip.   
  
Red Turtle: Thanks again for the nom! ^_^ And thank you for the vote of confidence!   
  
Maria: An epic? Now I _am_ feeling flattered. You guys are awesome. Thanks for reading!   
  



	17. A Step In The End's Direction

17 

  
  


Mike 

  
  
Three weeks later Donnie was still pretty much on crutches. April had ordered us to make sure he exercised and got his strength back, but carefully. Mostly it was me who helped him. We walked around the lair together. I just sort of, you know, slung an arm under his and let him lean on me and stuff. Raph would always grumble and go find something else to do, and Leo would help but Don said he Leo still felt so guilty over the whole thing that Don was pretty uncomfortable. So hey, I didn't mind much, I like spending time with Don. He's awesome. I mean I don't know anyone in the world smarter than Don. We'll be talking and he'll just pull out this really cool neato thing right out of the air.   
  
Leo had the t.v. on in the next room as we walked. Don and I both weren't saying much. He was busy concentrating. I know he was still in a lot of pain. We don't know exactly what all was broken in there, but I'm real sure if it hadn't been for April we'd have lost him. April had been working a lot of overtime though, so we hadn't seen much of her since Don had first woken up.   
  
Don had his head cocked towards the living room, and then nudged me. "Hey Mikey, I think I just heard something interesting on television. Can you help get me to the living room?"   
  
"For sure!"   
  
We headed in and I got him settled in the nearest chair. I stuck around nearby for when he needed to get up again. Raph and Leo were on the couch. Raph glared at us both when we came in. "Sheesh." He yanked a blanket off the back of the couch and threw it at Donnie, who caught it with a mild grin and tucked it around himself. Raph grunted, crossed his arms, and stared ahead at the news like we weren't even there.   
  
Cameron Williams was reporting. At least that's what the caption at the bottom of the screen said. _ "The announcement that the world will move to a Tri-Currency system this morning has rocked the financial world. The NASDAQ took a sharp upturn as did other markets worldwide. The Dollar, the Euro, and the Yen will be only currencies in use. Investors who played the Currency market are in an uproar, however, as many were taken by surprise by this action. The United Nations is discussing ways in which the impact on these sorts of investors might be minimized." _   
  
Now I felt like I needed the blanket.   
  
"Its odd to watch that," Leo commented. "Knowing that we were sort of part of it. Behind the scenes. That Senator was going to try to keep this from happening."   
  
"I don't get why it makes any difference," Raph grunted.   
  
I had spent three weeks reading about End Times Prophecies though. I knew exactly where this was going. "Aw man. You guys..."   
  
Three heads swivelled to look at me, eye ridges lifting in nearly identical expressions. I'd kept quiet about my beliefs for the past few weeks. I'd been absorbed in helping Donnie and in my own studies. I'm a slow reader and it takes me awhile to get anything. But I'd found my way to this alright. "Look, guys, in the Bible...well it talks about this. Not directly really, but this is sort of a step in the direction. The next thing you're gonna see is one world currency. One type of money all over!"   
  
"Ooooh," Raph said, waving his hand back and forth in the air. "Spooky. Like it makes any difference to _us,_ Mikey!"   
  
"It makes a difference!" I said. "Because its part of what will let the AntiChrist get control of the whole world and the whole world's economy."   
  
Groans all around. I was getting real embarrassed, but I plunged ahead anyway. I mean what else could I do, dude? They didn't realize how dangerous stuff was about to become. I had to warn them.   
  
"Don't you guys see? We have got to talk about Jesus now, because it could all happen soon. The End of the World. The Last Judgement. All sorts of horrible stuff poured out over the earth. Only me and Master Splinter won't be here and if you'll just listen then you guys won't be either!"   
  
"Where will we be, Mikey?" Donnie asked. He sounded gentle. Well he was always real nice about my feelings. I knew that he'd probably be the hardest one to reach though. At least he wasn't yelling at me or making fun of me, you know?   
  
"Heaven. Jesus is going to come back and instantly take everyone who follows him off the earth so they won't have to face the horrible stuff that's coming. And all that horrible stuff is like...like a wake up call so people will get forgiven."   
  
Raph stood up. "I'm gonna go get the X-Box. I'm ready for some video games now."   
  
I wasn't explaining things well. "Raph, its gonna suck as soon as this happens! What if you die? You'll go straight to hell!"   
  
Louder groans now. Raph pelted me with a pillow. "Knock it off numbskull."   
  
Don, I noticed, was listening, not groaning.   
  
"Don! I can lend you a book about it. It explains it all real great."   
  
"No thanks, Mikey," Don said quietly.   
  
Leo shook his head. "Alright Mikey. Your warning is noted. We'll all give it some thought. Won't we, guys?"   
  
They both nodded. "Yeah, sure, some thought," Raph said.   
  
I got mad. "You know what? I know you're just humoring me. I'm not as dumb as you guys think. Well you know what? If I wasn't secure in where I was gonna go, I'd be a little more worried about it. You're like, watching Bible prophecy play out right before your eyes, and all you can do is...is...just assume that because its coming from me that its crap. I think that sucks, dudes. I'm trying to tell you because we're bros and I love you guys. You could try not blowing me off."   
  
They stared at me, shocked. Well I don't lose it often. But this was so important!   
  
Don broke the silence by saying, "I have never thought you're dumb, Mike."   
  
I reached over and squeezed his shoulder. Something was squeezing at my insides. He wouldn't take anything on faith. Not Don. I was suddenly scared I'd never see him again, that it would be soon and Don wouldn't be coming, now or ever. I didn't see how any of them could come. I was praying hard and all choked up. "I've gotta go start dinner," I said, and it sounded weird to me.   
  
"Mikey, its two in the afternoon," Leo said gently. "We didn't mean to upset you. Its just that --"   
  
"I'm starting a dinner that takes hours to cook," I said.   
  
Then I left the room. Everything felt way far out. I could see stuff falling into place. The kitchen no longer seemed even real. Like there was another reality that I'd never even seen and that was the reality that was approaching, and all of this was fading like a dream. For a moment it felt like something was holding its breath. It felt exactly like the tense moments before a really huge rumble. In that book they called it a lot of stuff. The End Times. The Tribulation. I knew I had to calm down. Nobody was supposed to know exactly when it would happen. This was just sort of something that led up to it. It could have been fifty years, giving me plenty of time to get through to them. But there was that strange anticipation. Soon. I knew it would be soon.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** It seems like a good time for another disclaimer. I don't own TMNT. I don't own Left Behind, including Cameron Williams. I also want to note I had a lot of trouble with this chapter!! I've known the 'what' happens for a month and a half, but 'how' it happened was harder. This is another one of those Dreaded Transition Chapters for me.   
  
Jo Dawn: Thanks! Congrats to you too!   
  
Ramica: Heh. I kept your words in mind while trying to deal with Mike in this chapter. I've found it harder as this fic has progressed.   
  
In the Clouds: Ok. Here is the next chapter. ;>   
  
Maria: Heh. Well I'm actually following the Left Behind storyline pretty closely, but spending more time between plot points and giving some attention to how the guys would interact with it.   
  



	18. Timing

Leo 

  
  


18 

  
  
I waited an hour, but maybe it was the memory of my fist flying towards his face that got me up and towards the kitchen. Don's eyes were on me as I left, but Raph had already moved on. He wouldn't go into Mike's room for the video game system, not after that, but he had snatched up the remote and found his way to an action movie that I certainly couldn't concentrate on.   
  
I'm afraid we steal cable, just like we steal electricity and plumbing services, but in our defense I can say only that its impossible for us to get those things legitamately...and we do work for the City of New York, even if they don't know it. At least we pay for our groceries, and our stuff, through Don's little internet repair business, and what we can't manage April helps us with. Someday I'd like to figure out how to contribute, but money is the one thing we don't really argue about.   
  
I couldn't figure out what I was going to say to Mikey though, so I spent a few minutes outside of the kitchen. I thought it was great that he'd found something that worked for him. And I suppose that I could understand the concept of everyone being a wrongdoer on some level. I suppose nothing short of divine intervention could help with that. Its why the world is so messed up. And it meant a lot to me that Splinter had apparently taken up this banner as well. At the same time I couldn't reconcile a turn the other cheek religion with my path, the path of the warrior. Obligation, duty, honor...these things I understood. Sin, redemption, life after death? Those were all foreign to me. And some of the things Mike said, all wide eyed, sounded just...nuts. Things like: "Hey, if you just believe we'll all get swept up to Heaven and escape all the horrible things coming to the world." It rather had the ring of Peter Pan asking us, from within his fictional world, to put down the book long enough to clap our hands and believe in fairies so Tinkerbell could come back to life.   
  
For Pete's sake, everyone knows that if you just read long enough she comes back to life anyway. Its already written. What you believe has no bearing on what happens at all.   
  
It is up to me to keep a clear, objective mind. I can't afford to get swept up in anything like that. That's what I was telling myself, anyway.   
  
And maybe his prayers had helped with Donnie. Then again maybe it was April's quick thinking and scientific skill too. Why jump to a supernatural explanation when a natural one would do? At least Splinter wasn't treating him as the new favorite. I was happy for that, I guess Splinter is my one blind spot. Its more than just impressing him though, or trying to be just like him, whatever my brothers think. Its that I value and respect what he values and respects, and if I am in line with what he wants then I am also in line with my values. At least, his old values. I resolved to go ask him about his new ones when I was done with Mikey. I wondered if he would back up Mikey's wild predictions about the End of the World. (Did you hear bad organ music when I said that? I did). I rather thought he'd keep his own counsel though. _He'll advise me to look at it myself and search my heart. He'll be adverse to using, well, fear tactics to get me around to his new point of view._   
  
I finally decided I'd wing it.   
  
When I got to the kitchen I drew up short though. Mikey had his head in his hands at the table. He was talking to the thin air. Then I realized he wasn't talking to the thin air at all, he was praying. Considering absolutely nothing had been done towards getting a meal put together, I could only deduce he'd been at it awhile. Maybe the whole hour.   
  
"God, what am I gonna do? Dude, how can I enjoy heaven without my brothers around?"   
  
I was both touched and strangely amused. Who but Mikey would address God as "Dude?" I wanted to clear my throat and let him know I was there, but I was transfixed. I stayed silent. I always was the best one at that.   
  
"I'm not good enough at explaining stuff. Maybe I am a little dumber than them. I can't figure out how to lay this out for them. It all seemed so clear when Rachel told me about it though. Do you think I should get Rachel to talk to them?"   
  
Now I felt impatient. What did he expect from this God of his? An answer? A burning bush? A commandment showing up in the Microwave's LED display maybe? Still, I stood there, watching and listening. Holding my breath. Maybe _ I _ expected a commandment in the LED display.   
  
"I guess what I read this morning says I should just ask you and trust you to handle it. Well that's straight up, cause I can't figure what else to do, but what do you want me to do in the meantime? I'm really scared, God. I mean like...that big earthquake part. They'll get buried down here if you don't take them too. Can you take them just cause I ask? Will you forgive them now even if they don't ask because I asked? You said ask and you shall receive and stuff. So maybe you could just...I dunno. We're at a disadvantage here cause we're turtles you know. Maybe they ought to get a break? But I know that you want them to come on their own. And you did say you don't particularly want anyone to go to hell, so just get through to them ok? It doesn't have to be through me. Well, that's all for now, God. I guess I should start dinner like I said I would, though the only thing that takes 3 hours to cook is pot roast and we don't have any of that right now. Maybe I'll cook the bean soup though, I guess that takes awhile. Mikey out. I mean, Amen."   
  
Mikey _ out _?? I restrained the urge to laugh. Its not hard, I keep a serious face when I want to laugh all the time. I _ was _ touched though. He cared an awful lot about us. Probably gave us more thought on a given day then we usually gave him, because we're a family but its so easy to get caught up in your own desires, concerns, and worries.   
  
He was sniffling a little when he raised his head and stood up to go get the beans. So I said, "Mikey." I tried to put...well just everything I could in his name. Mostly that I love him. Mostly that.   
  
He turned, and I stepped forward. He didn't seem alarmed at the idea that I'd overheard him. It actually didn't seem to pass his mind at all. "I'll read one of your books, Mikey? Ok? I'll try to understand what you're trying to share. You're obviously doing it because you care. That's all I'll promise." I meant it, too. What was the harm in reading a book after all? I reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. He grinned at me, his old big silly Mikey grin...   
  
My hand went where his shoulder should have been and continued down through air to fall at my side.   
  
It took me a few moments to register it. Because that wasn't right. He hadn't moved or dodged the way he had when I had thrown that punch. He just wasn't there. And it took me a moment to register it because that goofy grin had settled itself in my mind, convinced my mind it was there, because sometimes we see exactly what we expect to see and nothing more or less.   
  
"Mikey?" I whispered.   
  
I looked up, first, trying to discern if he'd jumped on the ceiling just to mess with me. My stomach became an elevator out of control, hurtling towards my toes at a sickly speed and threatening to crash and shatter. He wasn't up there. I already knew he wasn't up there, though I could imagine him up there in every goofy detail, holding on to a railing and dangling his feet back and forth, grinning and sticking his tongue out. But I didn't see that even as a mirage when I looked up. I saw ceiling. I saw cabinets. Oddly I still saw the goofy grin, superimposed everywhere, as if his smile had burnt itself into my retinas, an image that would haunt me for the rest of forever.   
  
I looked down, because something seemed to nudge me, to let me know that's where I'd see something, the beginning of my answer.   
  
I blinked, trying to clear the vision of a goofy grin, trying to see clearly. Clearly and objectively, wasn't that it? Wasn't that my great motto?   
  
Not long ago I was worried about losing Don. Now I knew, even as my eyes refocused to the pile on my feet, that I _ had _ lost Mikey. Had I done a good enough job of packing "I love you" into his name? As awkward as it would have sounded -- we just don't say that stuff to one another -- I suddenly really wished that I had just said what I meant.   
  
His elbow and knee pads were all stacked neatly, one next to the other. His belt was folded perfectly. His mask was folded over that. His cell phone very neatly off to one side, as if someone with a perfect sense of order had swept in to clean up after himself after shattering my world. Most of all were his nunchucks, folded and placed to either side of the pile.   
  
I let out a strangled cry that brought Raph running. Don couldn't run yet of course. And of course there was only Raph and Donnie left down here, too. Because I was dead certain that one of Mikey's prophecies had just come to pass. And if that was true, I hadn't just lost a brother that day, but my father as well.   
  
"Your timing was off," I told the pile thickly, as Raph skidded in and stared at me and the pile on the floor, for once in mute incomprehension. But it wasn't Mike's timing that had been off at all. We'd had an hour. I could have gone to Master Splinter or come into Mike or anything in that hour. In that hour we could have listened instead of run him off. We'd had weeks, in which we encouraged him to keep silent about what he'd learned. No, it wasn't Mike's timing that had been off. It had been mine. All mine.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** It is my great hope that I have not mishandled this chapter. I've agonized over it since the beginning of this fic. I have known it was coming and have played with it constantly in my head. In this "part II" I suppose we're entering the emotionally and spiritually delicate part of the fic. As a side note I'd like to mention that I am totally open to speaking to any reader about my Christian beliefs, the End Times, and where the Biblical basis is for things that I'm endorsing, (if endorsing is the word), in Midnight Cry. Speaking of which this might be a good time to mention the title of this fic is not entirely original either. It comes from the Left Behind movie soundtrack, in which there is a song named "Midnight Cry". Which I think is also an allusion to a Bible verse, though I'm hard pressed at the moment to think of which one. Until next chapter.   
  
Ramica: Heh. Hopefully you won't feel this came too soon! But it was time.   
  
Lady-Of-The-Rings: Funny you should ask that...   
  
RskimB: I am hoping I'm doing LaHaye and Jenkins justice with this fic, but if not at least its tons of fun to write. =>   
  
JoDawn: Thanks!   
  
In the Clouds: Thanks!   
  
Crash77A: And thank you as well. => 


	19. And Now The News

19 

  
  


Don 

  
  
Raph tossed me the remote as he went running from the room. That's old habit and reflex; we had a big fight about the remote years ago and agreed on some ground rules about it. Handing the remote off to the last person in the room was part of those rules, unless you had been sitting right next to him and the remote was fairly close by. The movie he had put on for us was, in my opinion, sort of stupid. The villians were losing primarily because they weren't taking advantage of any of their edges. So I put on the news again instead.   
  
That proved, perhaps, to be a mistake. It took me several minutes to even comprehend the fact that the casters were announcing the _ world wide, instantaneous disappearance of millions of people. _ It took me several more to ascertian that every child had been taken as well.   
  
And the effects! The effects of this disaster were horrific. I was more greatful than ever for our subterranian home. Communications were shot. People who were desparately needed to aid in such a disaster: doctors, technicians...and they were desparately needed. Planes had crashed as their pilots disappeared. Cars had spun out of control on every road and interstate, causing a massive gridlock. Many who hadn't disappeared were merely dead in the ensuing disasters. Fires, everywhere, as people disappeared from their stoves. I had to shake my head in disgust as well...intersperced with this were tales of human vermin who decided to take advantage of the chaos to loot and riot. My mouth was wide open as I stared at the screen.   
  
Every possible explanation was offered. None of them made a lick of sense. Everything from the HARP project to space aliens. And while I knew that alien transporters were more than possible from my own adventures, no transporter could handle that many people spontaneously. It would take more transporters and more transporter power than anyone could ever build and aim at the same time. I wish I could have studied those I've seen a little more, but I just was not buying the explanations.   
  
When I get focused on one aspect of a problem, sometimes I am slow to consider the others. The possible reason for the sound Leo had just made, a sound that had been so unlike him, crept its way up my brain and crouched there like a spider waiting to suck me dry.   
  
Mikey.   
  
Mikey had just been talking about some sort of disappearance phenomena. A divine disappearance phenomena...   
  
My brain refused to wrap around it.   
  
It didn't have to right away. The cell phone rang. April. Relief flooded me. I hadn't even realized that I was tense yet, but the fact that she was still with us on the earth allowed me to start breathing again, when I didn't even know that I was holding my breath. I flipped it open. "April! Are you watching the news?"   
  
It was only by virtue of our private cell network that she probably even got on at all. It piggybacked on existing cell towers but was independant, and thus kept clear. We also had a subterranean "tower" of sorts of my own design. I was never more glad for the long frustrating months I'd spent developing that then I was right then.   
  
That's when I realized she was sobbing. "I am the news, Donnie! I was on the subway...the driver and about half the passengers disappeared! I realized we were on a collisison course with another train and tried to take control, but I didn't get there in time. Donnie, I'm trapped, and the power's out, and I don't even know if anyone's coming! Something's crushing my leg!"   
  
Panic shot through me. "Hold on, April! Tell me as much as you can about where you are." There had to be a hundred trains on the island with that much trouble right about now. Would we be able to find her before she went into shock?   
  
She was crying, but she was calm. I realized I was hearing tears of pain, not panic. Man I admire that lady! "I'm not sure. Just track my phone, Donnie!"   
  
"Right!" I had equipment to set up for that though. And I had to get the guys moving. I stood up, forgetting my condition utterly. "I'll grab the guys and get the trace started and we'll be there. You just hang on!"   
  
I hung up and entered the hall at a run. That's when a wave of dizziness chose to assail me. I staggered, stumbled. I was so weak! The ground came rushing towards my face. I stopped it with one arm and tried to call out for Leo. I found I was having trouble breathing. I tried again as my arm buckled. Spots of light danced before my eyes as I struggled not to faint. I had pushed myself too far. I couldn't afford to faint. If I did the guys wouldn't know about April for hours, until she was able to call again, and by then it might be too late. She might be unconscious herself, by then, unconscious, dying, and hours before any emergency crew would be able to get to her.   
  
But if I could get some help, then they could perhaps keep me awake long enough to talk to them. There was a vase sitting in the hall. Splinter had done a flower arrangement there. He wasn't going to be happy with me when he found out. I didn't care. With my last bit of strength I tossed the phone at the vase, sending it to the ground to shatter. Then I went limp and tried to control the flow of darkness and light over my vision, keeping my ears perked for some sign that one of my brothers, or my father, had arrived to help me.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** Left Behind and TMNT is the property of other people.   
  
Lexy8: I like reviews. ;>   
  
Ramica: *giggles* I didn't even do that on purpose.   
  
In the Clouds: They'll get into trouble, I imagine. That's what Turtles do best.   
  
Jo Dawn: Thanks! You too!   
  
RskimB: I am actually not entirely sure how the conversions will go, though I suspect you are correct.   
  
Sozei: Many thanks for your prayer, and your reminder that we can do work for Christ in all aspects of our lives. It came at a particularly needed moment.   
  



	20. When The Chips Are Down

20 

  
  


Raph 

  
  
It was clear to me that the proverbial mess was startin' to hit the fan.   
  
First, there was Leo, who had sunk to his knees and began rocking back and forth, clutching Mikey's nunchuks. Seeing him like that, well, I don't mind tellin' ya that it scared me worse than the strange pile Mikey's stuff had left. I still hadn't figured out what had happened, because Leo, after mumbling his comment about Mikey's timing, had zoned out.   
  
Then came the crash in the hall. I swore, because something was spiralling out of control. A line from something I'd read somewhere (yes, Virginia, I _do_ read) once hit me: _ Turning and turning in a widening gyre, the falcon cannot hear the falconer. Things fall apart, the center cannot hold. _ And then: _ And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches now towards Bethleham to be born? _ I shuddered and ran to find Donnie face first in the hall.   
  
"What the hell is going on around here!" I raced to help Donnie sit up. I was relieved to see he was even awake. His lips moved but nothing came out. I stuck my ear really close to his mouth. "Ok, buddy, try again."   
  
"Sugar," is what he managed to get out. Well he's Mr. Medical Expert. If he figured he needed sugar I figured he needed sugar. Back to the kitchen. Leo had wandered off. I could have punched clear through the fridge door. Mr. Fearless Leader had chosen the exact wrong moment to snap. If this was Mikey's idea of a joke or a proselytizing point making extravaganza, I was going to take that Bible of his and ram it right down his mouth.   
  
Opening the fridge was faster than punching through it. I grabbed two Dr. Peppars, Donnie's favorite, and got back to the hall. I opened one and helped Don drink it. "Easy now," I said, alarmed. He was gulping it down like it was all that stood between him and death or something.   
  
Well hell, alarmed...that about covered my entire emotions for the situation.   
  
"Leo's lost it," I informed Donnie as he drank.   
  
"Leo has a right to lose it," Donnie rasped. "Millions of people worldwide just disappeared out of thin air. Everything is in chaos, and April is in trouble. We have to get to her, Raph. She's trapped in a subway wreck and she's pinned and hurt bad. She could go into shock and she could die."   
  
My hand gave a sudden jerky tremble and I spilled Dr. Peppar all over my brother. He didn't seem to notice or care. I didn't ask if he was joking. No, he was dead serious. Donnie doesn't make jokes like that. And there was that pile of clothes on the floor.   
  
"Oh man. Leo must have watched Mikey..."   
  
Donnie opened one eye. "Mikey's gone?" He sounded plaintive, as if he were hoping that I would change my mind.   
  
"All his stuff is in this real neat folded pile on the floor. Mikey never folded stuff like that in his life." I took off an elbow pad and helplessly mopped at the Dr. Peppar, feeling the urge to retreat inside of my shell and stay there. Donnie squeezed his eyes shut. And that's when I realized I couldn't. One of us had to stay sharp. When Splinter emerged ... if Splinter emerged ... he could stay sharp and _ then _ I could fall apart, but one of us...   
  
One of us couldn't afford to, and right now that was me. And it hurt. I had to shut off my emotions. My rage. And I'd never done that before. I'd fed on my rage. It had fed me.   
  
Was this how Leo felt, day in and day out?   
  
I focused on my brother. "Uh uh. No way. You focus, Donnie, because Leo is losing it. If you want April saved you've got to focus and you have to tell me how to find her."   
  
He nodded and gulped down more soda. "Get me to my room. There's things you'll need there."   
  
Leo passed by, staring straight ahead. He was carrying a folded bundle of Splinter's clothes and a violin. He took the folded bundle into the kitchen. A moment later I heard music. It must have been him. Playing. I never even knew he could play the violin. But it was no time for a memorial service.   
  
I scooped Don up in my arms. He felt like a little kid, laying there. I marched him into his room and put him on the bed. "Tell me what to do." First thing's first. Then I could get Leo moving. Maybe if I let him have his little moment then I could go shake him and he could be leader and I could have my turn to fall apart. Millions _ everywhere?? _ But the only two that mattered to me were from right here in home sweet sewer.   
  
In a whisper, Donnie walked me through getting a trace set up on April's phone. Once I'd located April, I left him with another open Dr. Peppar and three more blankets, and the following instructions: "You leave that bed, Brainiac, and so help me I will break your computer. And I'll tell April the most embarrassing stories I can think of about you as I carry her home. You got that?"   
  
He almost looked amused. Almost. "I got it."   
  
"Fine." I stalked into the kitchen. Leo plays violin. Who the hell knew? And it was very very pretty. Now it was time for him to quit it. I walked right over to him and I clamped my hand around the strings.   
  
Leo narrowed his eyes and gave me the most furious look I've ever seen. It looked like looks I have felt on my own face. He looked ready to snap my neck. "Leave. Me. Alone." he said.   
  
"Yeah, I would," I said. "Except we still have people here who need us. Don nearly killed himself running in here to say that April is in trouble. I know where she is, but I can't get her on my own. I don't think any less of you for freaking out a little after watching our brother disappear right in front of ya, but now is the time to..." I groped for words. I wondered if Leo ever groped for the right words. He always delivered them so smoothly. It was sick, really. I always wanted to be the top turtle, and now that I was thrust, even temporarily, into the role, all I wanted to do was give it back. "Uh...to honor their memories with right action." It was right out of some barely heard Splinter-lecture, but it seemed to work. Leo nodded, straightened, and put the violin aside. I let out a breath. My next attempt was going to be to pummel him and that would have taken too much time.   
  
"Its going to be bad when we get out there," I warned. Leo just nodded and motioned for me to lead the way. Looks like he wasn't ready to take his job back. So I didn't have time for the big lump in my throat.   
  
So I led the way. I kept us to the sewer tunnels until we were right near the subway tunnels. And that is when we emerged into hell.   
  
The lights flickered off and on in a random pattern that strained the eyes. Here and there sparks flew between trains who had sparking wires exposed and malfunctioning. One train looked like a crumpled Dr. Peppar can, but that one was not, according to Don's equipment, the one we were after. The whole area reeked of electrical fires and dust. There were people moaning, screaming, crying, everywhere. Nobody gave us a second glance, though we were in plain sight. There was a woman clutching an empty set of baby clothes and wailing while a malfunctioning sprinkler system shot water down on her head. I thought it was one of the most sickening sights I'd ever seen. And I hadta move forward, because if I stopped, Leo would stop. If I let it get to me, Leo would let it get to him, all over again. It was up to me to save April. Leo at this point was another pair of hands, functioning on autopilot.   
  
We turned a corner and I nearly did lose it. There was a giant pile of rubble between us and April's train. We were either going to have to clear the rubble, or find a way around.   
  
I looked back at Leo to see if he was ready to think yet. He didn't look it. "Dig," I snarled, and started moving rocks aside. There were no emergency crews in sight. Leo started grabbing rocks. He looked relieved. I could see why. The physical exertion took all of our concentration, and it was hard to think. At last we'd created a little tunnel that looked safe to crawl through. "You first, then me," I instructed. I wasn't sure I could get him to go through if I went first.   
  
When I got through I had to suck in a breath. April's train was on its side, with another train shoved straight through the middle. Windows were blown out. I could hear the groans of other passengers: more people than April were in trouble. We knew she was in the control car, which narrowed the number of cars we'd have to pass through though. I leaped up on the second train and held out a hand to Leo. "Snap out of it, Leo," I said, when he took too long about jumping. He gave me a hateful look and leapt straight into the air, did a flip, and landed lightly beside me.   
  
I smirked...then stared. The spot where April had to be looked like a spiky, crumpled tin can. I couldn't find doors. There were places where I was sure the windshield had been once, but now they were just twisted metal piles of mess surrounded by broken glass. The burning electricity smell was way worse here. We were going to need more than ourselves to get her out of there.   
  
"April! You hear me?"   
  
Not a sound. I yelled louder, jumping down to get at least a little of the debris out of the way. "April!"   
  
I yanked out my cell when she didn't answer again and dialed her number. It just kept ringing. It rang eight times. Then the voice mail picked up. _ You've reached April. Please leave a message. _   
  
"Not what I wanted to hear," I muttered. I turned to Leo, hoping he'd have some ideas. Because now...I was fresh out.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** God bless all of you for your kind reviews and prayers.   
  
Jo Dawn: Hee. I seem to excel in making people nervous. I enjoy it though.   
  
Ramica: Yup, cause I don't even always know how they'll handle things.   
  
In The Clouds: Am I doing it to you again, Clouds? ;>   
  
Orange Turtle: My prayers are with you, OT.   
  
Machias Banshee: You brought a tear to my eye with your review. I am praying for you.   
  
Red Turtle: All children under the age of 12, including the unborn, of all faiths throughout the world were also taken up in the Rapture, as they weren't held responsible for knowing or accepting a Gospel they weren't capable of understanding yet.   
  
Ziptango: Aw, thank you! And heck, I'm half and half. I think salvation is about accepting the forgiveness and love of Christ, knowing what he did for you and why its important. Everything else is between you and God. But I think so. If my opinion is important. =>   
  
God bless y'all and see you next chapter.   
  



	21. Mission Control

21 

  
  


Don 

  
  
I drifted off into strange dreams. Dreams where I was wandering the landscape of a city strung up with Christmas lights on every corner. It was as busy and as loud as New York itself, but it was somehow barren and empty too, as if every person within were no more than a puppet. I was real, though I kept checking my arms and legs for strings. They were never there when I looked, but when I turned my head back towards the streets I could feel them, directing my steps in slow, subtle cadance.   
  
It was the phone that woke me. I fumbled for it, still disturbed and groggy, unable to say why the city had upset me on any level. Normally I don't pay attention to dreams. Normally I don't dream at all. "'S Me," I managed.   
  
_ "Leo's freaking useless." _   
  
Raph's voice was flat. That meant he was on the edge of panic. "Talk to me."   
  
_"The whole thing looks like a pop can that got stepped on. I don't even know where to start. I asked Fearless Leader here but he's just staring at it like an idiot." _   
  
"There's a blue button at the base of the phone." I felt even more exhausted. I had explained how to work every feature of these phones at least three times. "Push it and activate the camera function on the phone. Show me."   
  
It was a video camera function, something they don't even have out on the market yet. If I knew how to do it without exposing us I'd have already patented it and made us a small fortune, but...well. Little ventures attract little attention. Big ventures are something else again.   
  
My stomach clenched itself tightly around all that pop as Raphael showed me the train. I grabbed the blankets and wrapped myself hard in them as I considered the problem.   
  
_ "You're being awful quiet, bro. _   
  
"You be quiet. I'm thinking."   
  
I knew I sounded snappish as soon as I said it. But it was very hard, at that moment, to just lay in bed and consider what I was seeing, try to figure out what instructions to give from my make-shift "Mission Control". I wanted to be there, to be helping hands on. And I couldn't. Was this how April always felt? She was always taking this role for us. The voice in the shadows, calling out the information we needed. The person left at home to maybe watch us get hurt while being unable to do anything but yell "Watch out!" into the nearest communication device. It felt horrible. How did she stand it? It had never occured to me how easy by comparison it was to get out there and take action.   
  
"Alright, stop the camera right there. If you can get Zombie boy to wedge his swords in there, he should be able to push that beam up and brace it. That should give you just enough crawlspace to get in there, but as soon as you go through he'll need to brace it with his hands to make sure it doesn't collapse. Think he can manage that?" Alright, so I was starting to get a little impatient with Leo too. Impatient? No...I was starting to get angry.   
  
_ "He'd better," _ Raph said, in tones of satisfaction. _ "That'll ruin his swords though." _   
  
"Tell him not to worry about the swords."   
  
I heard muted conversation on the other end of the phone. I held my breath. I really had no idea if Leo was even capable of understanding what we wanted out of him at that point. But at last Raph tilted the camera back on the correct spot and I watched Leo do as I said. I frowned. The crawlspace was smaller than I'd hoped. Had I been at full faculty I'd have been able to calculate the size to a far greater degree of accuracy. "You're going to scrape up your shell," I warned Raph.   
  
_ "Yeah, and the rest of me. So?" _   
  
He stuck the phone in his teeth and got down to crawl through. Good, I didn't have to remind him that the phone would give off some light for him to see by. Though that was frustrating, because I couldn't see him at all. And the interior of the train was no picnic either. Still...   
  
"I see her hand, Raph. Do you?"   
  
I wondered if he could tell how badly I wanted to cry just then. Her hand looked so slim and pale, almost already dead in the sickly blue light of the phone. I heard a grunt of annoyance and reminded myself that the phone was in his teeth. "Nevermind. Go forward a bit...there."   
  
Now we could both see more. Her head was bleeding profusely. She was out cold, with her phone right next to her ear. Raph scooped that up and stuck it in his belt, then spat the phone out to say, _ "Well ok, I can't stand up in here..." _   
  
Making it hard to get the debris off of her. I considered the problem once more, then, piece by piece, directed him in digging her out. He stuck the phone back in his teeth then grunted and groaned as he dragged pieces of debris this way and that. I could see where great huge folds of skin had been ripped away by Leo's sword, spilling his blood all over him, the train, and April. He never once complained. I felt guilty...I knew the opening would be big enough to pass her through to Leo without giving her another scratch. I was also finding new admiration for my hotheaded brother. He was tough. Really tough.   
  
When he was done I could see what a bloody, shattered mess her legs were. "She's going to need more than those nanites," I muttered. The nanites wouldn't be able to work fast enough. She had already lost so much blood, for starters, and they couldn't do anything about that at all.   
  
Raph passed April to Leo, and Leo at least had enough presence of mind to be very gentle. The phone bounced and wheeled as he crawled out. Now that the immediate need for my eyes was gone I closed them, the whole vantage point was very nauseating.   
  
_ "Blue Boy, get her to Don." _   
  
Very very quietly, I heard Leo speak for the first time. _ "And where are you going to be?"_   
  
_"I'm going to go kidnap us a real doctor."_   
  
I braced myself for the inevitable arguement. It never came. I had objections of my own to voice. I never managed to voice them. And Raph...Raph seemed to sense our sudden unease.   
  
_ "Don't worry," _ he said softly. So softly, in fact, that I barely heard him at all. _"Whatever it takes, I'll make sure whoever I get won't be a threat to us._   
  
Sudden chills took me. We were about to commit a major crime, do something very wrong. Because if the person Raph found looked for one moment like they were going to expose us after helping April...the tone in Raph's voice told me all I needed to know about what would happen next.   
  
If Raph's victim, the good doctor, became a liability, Raphael would kill the good doctor.   
  
And still neither Leo or I voiced a single protest.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** Sorry for the long wait on this update! I had a lot of decisions to make about how the next chapter would go and whose POV it would be told by. Also I had to figure out how to solve the problem...for awhile I was as baffled as Raph...At this point in the story I'm finding it counter-productive to stick to the exact same pattern of POV that I've been using. Hopefully this decision won't harm the story too greatly...but I think it will help. Leo, after all, is not really in a mental position to say much of anything to us (and Leo would have been the next POV character, following the pattern I'd established). Next chapter...look to see what happens to Casey Jones.   
  
Lady-of-the-Rings: Heh. Well I'll try to make my next update faster!   
  
Jo Dawn: Heh. Hopefully this chapter didn't lessen the suspense any.   
  
Maria: God bless you as well.   
  
Ramica: Thanks!! I know descriptions are normally my weakest point so I'm glad to know those came out ok.   
  
In the Clouds: Sorry sorry! One of these days I'll do a chapter that's /not/ a cliffhanger. ;>   
  
RskimB: Thank you very much!   
  
Orange Turtle: I continue to keep you in my thoughts and prayers.   
  
Daydream: Your wish is my command...a few weeks late? ;>   
  



	22. Taking Stock

22 

  
  


Casey 

  
  
Not too many people up and disappeared from the sports bar. That's where I was when the whole world fell apart: Joe Mason's Gridiron, one of the best sports bar and grill joints in the city. Its filled with dozens of televisions, each one turned to a different station, and you can buy a little thing for your ear to turn to the channel of your choice so you can hear the broadcast. I'd landed on college football. The Louisiana State University Tigers seemed to be linin' up pretty good for winnin' a second National Championship. There was other stuff to do there too: darts, pool, whatever. And I did have a pretty big beer matched by an equally big roast beef sandwhich.   
  
I wasn't the only one who'd been pretty absorbed in their games of choice. Five people disappeared, but ironically it wasn't the people in the room we noticed. I noticed when six Tigers left their purple and gold jerseys on the field and four Michigan State Spartans left their green and white on the field. Cheerleaders turned into piles of clothes and about half the bleachers emptied.   
  
I spilled my beer.   
  
The emergency broadcasts came on shortly after that, letting us know it was everywhere. By then patrons of the bar were screaming, and a few panicked fights had broke out. And all the while I stood there, my own jersey dripping alcohol, my sandwhich slowly soaking up the puddle left in my plate.   
  
I found I was braced, ready for the alien death ray to take me up too. It never did though. I punched some guy who staggered too close to me waving a knife around, but I didn't even actually look at him. I just knew he was there, punched him. That's about the time I pulled some bills out of my pocket and put them on the table, placing them carefully beneath the big Heinz Fifty-Seven glass Ketchup bottle that is still a staple of those sorts of places decades after the squeeze bottle got itself invented. It was almost like...well you know, like a ritual.   
  
Steppin' out into the streets was a mistake. People were rioting, for one thing, when they weren't clustered together in a panic. I went looking for my motorcycle only to discover it was already gone. I have of course pulled my little Batman act for a lot of years, and I guess part of me was getting mad, wanting to lay into rioters left and right. But I've done some growin' up since I first started this gig, thanks to Raph. Lay into a buncha rioters and all you are is a rioter yourself.   
  
There were people I wanted to check on, down in my neighborhood. Angel, Gramma Diddy, Jo-Jo. I needed to find out who was there and who was gone and who was holding onto their stuff.   
  
I spotted an old man wheeling a bike down the street. I frowned. There was something funny about the guy. Nobody was paying him a lick of attention, for one thing. He seemed to know exactly where to move so that nothing hit him at all. He put the bike against the lamppost and produced a little piece of cardboard, which he attached to the bike with some wire. He wrote something on the bike with a magic marker and then capped it, stepping back to regard his work like it was a dang Picasso.   
  
Then he looked right at me. He smiled, raised a hand, winked even, and then turned and shuffled back down the street. I lost sight of him a few seconds later, but he left the back of my neck a little prickly, like I'd just witnessed something or someone who wasn't entirely of this world. A stupid thought -- but was anything really _ that _ dumb when millions had just disappeared?   
  
I jogged over to the bike and read the sign. "Take this bike freely. Use it if you need it. When you are done, leave it for someone else to use." I shook my head. "Crazy old coot. Someone's gonna steal it..." But that someone wasn't going to be me. I knew I was going to get on the thing and ride it through the sidewalks of New York, getting through the crowds and the carwrecks until I was back in my neighborhood. Then I was gonna leave that bike against some lamppost and that sign would be on it. And maybe the next person really would do the same thing. Even a buncha punks can sometimes understand things like that, things like...I dunno, I'll go with a fancy word and call it kindness.   
  
The worst of the nightmares seemed to happen in pockets. There were spots where everyone was tearing themselves to shreds and spots where everything was as quiet as a graveyard. Luckily the Gridiron really wasn't that far from the neighborhood, but even so the bike ride took a few hours. Routes that I'd normally use were completely closed off, for one thing, often by twelve-or-worse car pileups that sprawled right into storefronts, going straight through them.   
  
When I got to the neighborhood, I started knocking on doors and taking stock. Emotion sort of leaked off into space. I was just gatherin' facts.   
  
I found Grandma Diddy's clothes in a chair, folded up neatly with her Bible on top. She was always on about religion. Her house still smelled like pie. I found Jo-Jo on his front porch. He had a bullet in his head. Angel I found in one of her hiding spots, curled up under a hollow in the steps to one of the brownstones. She was curled into a little ball, rocking back and forth. She's a tough kid. She's also a little girl. I pulled her out and wrapped her in my arms. That stopped the rocking, but didn't put any...you know, any light back in her eyes. The word came to me slowly, but it came: catatonia.   
  
I lifted her into my arms like a baby, draping her arms around my neck. I'd take her to my place. I didn't know what else to do just then. Then, my cell rang.   
  
I worked it out of its little phone holster and stared at the number for a moment. Don. I almost didn't answer it at all. It wouldn't really have been a question if it were Raph, but...   
  
I sighed and flipped it open. "Jones."   
  
His voice was faint. I remembered that he was pretty messed up from their last adventure. I didn't even have it in me to be pissed about that anymore. _ "Casey, I have some news for you about April." _   
  
I listened in growing cold horror as he filled me in on the subway crash. He finished up with: _ "Leo's bringing her here now." _   
  
"You idiot," I said. "She needs a real doctor, not you. He ought to be bringing her to me, and then I can take her to a hospital."   
  
_ "Right, because the hospitals aren't overfilled and understaffed right now." _ I hated the bite of sarcasm in his tone. He always thought he was so much smarter than me. I opened my mouth to give him some real choice words but he plowed ahead. _ "Because in a triage situation she wouldn't just be put with the hopeless and soon to die. Get real. Raph is going to go get us a doctor who is going to pay attention, because we're going to make him." _   
  
"You're sending Raph to kidnap a doctor? Whose bright idea was that?"   
  
_ "Raph's." _   
  
That shut me up a minute. The only one of 'em who ever made any sense to me was Raph. Mikey was ok, but the other two...   
  
_ "Look, I'm calling because I know there's a lot of riots and stuff out there. I don't want April's apartment to get looted. I thought maybe you could go over there and protect it." _   
  
April lived on a far nicer stretch of town than me. I was not totally sure I could get over there at all, let alone in time to do anything about her stuff if it was taken. Then again she lived on the 15th floor of her high rise, and to be honest most of the looters were going after stores, not homes. I shifted Angel in my arms. April's place would be nicer and safer to keep her in too, and April had groceries. I hadn't shopped in awhile. Fine for a bachelor. Not so great for taking care of traumatized kids.   
  
"Fine."   
  
_ "Thanks, Casey." _ He sounded so relieved I got mad all over again. What, did he think I'd just let April's stuff rot? That I didn't care about her as much as he did? Boy they tick me off sometimes.   
  
"Yeah, fine." I flipped the phone closed and tried to figure out how to get to April's with Angel and me in one piece.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** The bicycle event is not mine at all. This happens in Left Behind. Buck Williams simply finds the bike and the sign and makes use of it, the books don't ever show you who put the bike there in the first place. So I took some artistic license with it. Whee! I'm on an updating roll. We'll see how long it lasts...until next time! As for the LSU Tigers and Michigan State: Louisiana is my home state and Michigan is my current. And yes I was rather thrilled about LSU winning the Sugar Bowl.   
  
Daydream: Heh. Well hopefully the state of the world right now stresses your point for you?   
  
In the Clouds: Hey look, I actually updated faster!   
  
Tripmon: I'm glad to know its having an effect!   
  
Ramica: Yup. But its those same desparate circumstances that make Raph contemplate what he's contemplating.   
  
Orange Turtle: Hang in there! ;>   
  
Maria: *grins* Well every gal likes a 'Wow'.   
  



	23. Keeping Promises

23 

  
  


Leo 

  
  
Separated from my brother, all I could do was turn my brain back on and let it do its work. If, that is, I wanted to stay alive, and of course keep April alive with me. At this point I didn't expect any attacks, but the route home was threat enough, up to and including the fact that I had to chose a different one. There'd be no leaping on the tops of trains with April, the risk of jarring her and killing her was too great.   
  
So I took it slowly, and let my instincts do the walking. I'd sheathed my useless swords out of habit, but using them as crowbars and supports had warped the metal considerably, particularly down at the ends of the blades. Old habits; I didn't want them left for someone to find.   
  
By the time I made it home the shock really had worn off. Now in its place was a tiny seed of hope. If Mike had been right, then he and Master Splinter were in paradise. Maybe even waiting on me. On us. I had to know more. I'd promised Mike I'd read his books anyway.   
  
Don was half asleep when I made it into his room. I laid April down, gently, next to him. He opened one eye and murmured something at me. Instructions, unless I miss my guess. I nodded at him. I could figure out for myself at least some of what needed to be done. I tore a blanket into strips and started winding pieces of blanket around the worst of April's wounds. God knows she couldn't afford to lose any more blood. I was covered in it, not that I really cared. When I laid her back down next to Don, he slipped a protective arm around her. I tucked them both in. Raph would bring someone to help. I considered April's nanites, but I had no idea how to administer an injection safely. In the meantime I got this funny feeling that letting them be together would make both of them stronger, maybe strong enough to save her. There had always been a bond between them. Right about then I wished I had a bond like that with someone, but I'd kept myself a little apart from everyone for so long that I wasn't even sure where I'd begin.   
  
I set up a scalding shower for myself. Steam rolled out of the bathroom and into the hallway as I scrubbed myself with soap, letting April's blood roll slowly down the drain. I stayed in twice as long as I normally would. When I got out I intended to be strong again, myself. I would never be back to normal again, but some of what Mike had said before disappearing was coming back to me. So it was clear we would need our strength more than ever. I couldn't abdicate responsibility. Raph had done just fine, but that did not give me permission to quit.   
  
I got out, and dried off. I did not put my elbow pads back on, or my mask, or any of my normal wear. It all needed washing, for one thing. For another I felt a symbolic need to start over again. I had cleansed and purified myself. Now I needed to move forward. So it was my hakama and gi that I reached for. I removed them from the wall, letting the fabric spill through my fingers like waterfalls. Duty, respect, tradition, honor, courage, adulthood, worth...above and beyond the symbolic meaning of the hakama pleats. This is what I saw, when I saw Splinter's gift, and this is what I would wear on myself, a new armor for a new day. I decided I'd sew up a few more sets, myself. There was no more room in my life for being a boy. My former mode of dress had nothing to do with manhood, of course, but Splinter had always emphasized the power of symbols.   
  
I felt better when I was dressed. I gave myself a cursory look in the mirror and decided I'd do. I reached for my swords, to put them through the belt in the manner of the samurai of old. Then I remembered they were ruined. At some point I'd do something about that. Instead, I left them on the bed, and I went after a pair of bokken. The wooden practice swords may not have had blades to cut with, but the heavy stick was a pretty potent weapon all on its own. I slid them through the belt and drew them back out again a few times, just to make sure the execution was smooth. Then I made my way to Mike's room.   
  
I'd have to clean it. Mike, I realized, had left a lot of dirty dishes from a lot of late night snacks scattered over his space. I was torn between exasperation and sadness. Once I got rid of the smell it would never come again. Still the books were easy to locate, right on his bedside table, along with his Bible. I took them all at once and went back to my own room.   
  
I had no idea, I realized, where to begin. But the Bible was the source material, so that was where I started.   
  
Mike's Bible was filled with the spidery, feminine handwriting of the woman who had owned it before, and lots of highlighting. Some words were in red and some in black. None of this helped me. I looked for "disappearances" in the index, but that didn't help either. Finally I settled on the last chapter, on Revelation. Mike had gone on about the end of the world. Even I knew that's what Revelation was supposed to talk about.   
  
The imagry was strange, the language was strange, and all of it was fairly scary. I did see one verse that sort of struck me in some way. "Let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who wishes take the water of life without cost."*   
  
It was comforting, even though I had no clue what water of life was.   
  
In the end, it was this book by Billingsley I turned to. "Are We Living In the End Times?"** It began like this:   
  
_ Let me give you a scenario. Millions of people have suddenly disappeared from all over the earth. And you...have been left behind. You are stunned, shocked, afraid, and remorseful. You have just witnessed Christ's rapture of His church. Anyone you know or knew of who placed his or her trust in Christ alone for salvation has been taken to heaven by Christ. Perhaps you are even reading this after such a scenario has taken place. You're wondering "How did he know?" I know because the Bible told me. Here is a verse from 1 Corinthians 15:51-57.   
  
"Listen, I will tell you a mystery! We will not all die, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For this perishable body must put on immortality. When this perishable body puts on imperishability, and this mortal body puts on immortality, then the saying that is written will be fulfilled: Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where, o death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."   
  
_ I don't mind telling you the entire verse seemed like gibberish to me, but I read on.   
  
_ When Paul says we shall not all sleep, he means that we shall not all die. And he's saying that this corruptible being must be put on an incorruptible body which is to last for all eternity. When these things have happened, when the Christians who have already died and those that are still living recieve their immortal bodies, the Rapture of the church will have taken place.   
  
Every person who believed in and accepted the sacrificial death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ anticipated his coming again for them. He promised us this, saying: "I will come again and receive you unto Myself; that where I am, there you may be also."   
  
I believe that all such people will be literally taken from the earth, leaving everything material behind. Babies and children will also vanish. Up to a certain age, which is probably different for each individual, we believe that God will not hold a child accountable for a decision that must be made with heart and mind, fully cognizant of the ramifications. Unborn children will also disappear from their mother's wombs. I can only imagine the pain and heartache of a world without precious children, and the deep despair of parents who will miss them so."   
  
_ A decision? What sort of decision? Yet...this guy had to be on to something. I flipped back to the front of the book. It was the year 2005 right now. The book had been published in 1999. He'd known exactly what was going to happen, 6 years before it had happened.   
  
_ Paul's prophetic letter to the Corinthians said this would occur in the twinkling of an eye. You might see a loved one standing before you, and then, suddenly...he or she is gone." _   
  
My arms felt suddenly weak and I dropped the book. It wasn't that I was surprised, at this point, that he'd known. It was seeing, in plain black and white, exactly what I'd seen happen to Michelangelo.   
  
It took me a few minutes to recover, as I felt like I couldn't breathe. I saw myself as such a strong person, but at that moment I was seized up with panic that I couldn't name or explain. Quelling it took a few moments. My hands still shook as I retrieved my book.   
  
_ You may wonder why this must happen. Some believe it is the judgement of God on an ungodly world. Actually, that is to come later. Strange as this may sound to you, this is God's final effort to get the attention of every person who has ignored or rejected him. What I'm saying is there's a second chance for even those that will remain...but why wait? You can receive the salvation gift of Jesus Christ right now, as you read. _   
  
As I read on, the writer quoted more Bible verses. They promised that whoever called on the name of the Lord would be saved and that God would not cast out anyone who sought him. It even gave a prayer I could pray..._"Dear God, I admit that I'm a sinner and I'm sorry for my sins. Please forgive me and save me. I ask this in the name of Jesus, who died for me. I trust in him right now. I believe that the sinless blood of Jesus is sufficient to pay the price for my salvation. Thank you for hearing and receiving me. Thank you for saving my soul."_   
  
It was all very strange to me. I set the book aside and flopped down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. It seemed too easy. It seemed a little pat. And a little judgemental. I had to think about this. Critically. I had to talk to someone about it, but who would I talk to? Don and April, my first and second choices, were both out cold and too sick to talk metaphysics with me.   
  
I had a million questions and a million fears. And part of me thought every one of them was stupid. If he'd been right about everything that happened, then surely he was right about everything else. Why was I resisting it?   
  
It was clear I had some self-examination to do. Maybe some praying, too. I needed to clear my head. I needed to think.   
  
Splinter had some things for meditation! I knew that in this critical hour he'd approve of me using them, since he was not going to anymore. If Billingsley was right then he was actually in heaven, enjoying any kind of food or incense or whatever that he liked. Still, I felt like a robber as I pushed open the door to my father's room, and prepared to go in search of what I needed to examine myself in the cold light of the truths I'd just discovered.   
  
** Author's Notes: **   
  
* Rayford Steele also focuses in on this verse in Left Behind.   
  
** The stuff in italics is pretty much direct quotation from Left Behind. In Left Behind, Vernon Billingsley leaves a video in which he states these things. I changed it slightly to make it fit the book that he's supposedly written. The title of the book, "Are We Living in the End Times" is from Tim LaHaye's book of the same title, which is a worthy read if one felt the need to seek it out.   
  
In the books, Rayford converts almost instantly after finally getting these things laid out for them. But I just don't see careful Leo jumping into anything without thinking about it long and hard -- and in truth Rayford had done much of his self-examination way before he gets ahold of Billingsley's video. Next chapters: Raph kidnaps a doctor, and Leo finds some surprises in Master Splinter's room.   
  
Machias Banshee: Thanks! Most of the credit goes to LaHaye and Jenkins, though, not to me. I'm following their storyline pretty faithfully, but trying to simply show how our favorite guys in green and their friends would react and be affected by the same circumstances.   
  
In the Clouds: Working as fast as I can! ;> Thanks for telling me I write wonderfully -- helps with all the rejection slips I get for my other work.   
  
Jo Dawn: (grins) Well I'm not meaning to parallel your story. I just see some of the same things you do with Casey/Don.   
  
Red Turtle: Whoa! Thanks!! And I would have liked to meet you as well.   
  
Maria: Thanks!   
  
Orange Turtle: I'm glad!   
  



	24. Paging Dr Perry

24 

  
  


Raph 

  
  
One thing about this brave new world? There were abandoned clothes practically everywhere. By the time I got up to the hospital I'd managed to snatch a big black trench that would fit me, a black wool hat that was close enough for government work, and a pair of sunglasses. I'd found a pair of slacks wide enough to fit around my shell and I put those on too. There's a lot to be said, for the value of surprise: a freak that you thought normal a few moments ago is way more intimidating than "just some freak".   
  
It also allowed me to take advantage of the chaos and blend in. I got into the hospital okay, and found my way to the security station. The guard had left his clothes behind, and also his coffee, which I drank as I watched the emergency room on the CCTV. The coffee was cold, but he hadn't overdone the sugar.   
  
I can still remember harder times, times when we did not have rooms or even a real place, where we scavenged for every little thing. Times before April, or even before our own growing ingenuity had increased our fortunes a little bit. I don't waste food, not ever. And that includes food nobody's coming back for. I'm not sure my brothers would have drank the stuff, but I did. We don't live in the sewer proper anymore, and we rarely bother to travel through it anymore, but it was the location of our first home. If we were too vulnerable to germs we'd have all grown ill and died. If we were too vulnerable, period. So a few Missing Guard Germs in the coffee were not high on my list of concerns.   
  
As I watched the emergency room I tried to figure out whether I wanted to snatch a man or a woman. If I had to kill someone in cold blood, someone who wasn't trying to kill me first -- I thought it might be easier to do, if it were a guy. Then again maybe a woman would be less inclined to be a problem for us. Ever notice how desperation make thoughts that are really stupid by the light of normalcy seem real reasonable?   
  
In the end though, it was not the gender of the doc that made up my mind. There was one doctor in particular that caught my eye. He was a compact little black man who couldn't have been more than five foot tall. He moved with energy and purpose, but most of all, in spite of all the chaos around him, he was precise. He cut into each patient with the same care that he might have used had he had them all to himself in a nice operating room, but he wasn't slow about it either. People called his name and clamored for his attention, but he sewed stitches straight and then, and only then, moved on -- yet he took no more time with each than any other doctor. I looked at him and could tell I was looking at a master of the craft.   
  
I leaned into the screen and read his name tag. Perry, it said. Doctor Perry.   
  
My next stop was not to grab Dr. Perry, however. It was to grab Dr. Perry some supplies. Yes, the hospital was full and crowded, but most of the crowding was still on the lower floors. Normally I'm guessing all of their supply rooms would be locked -- but at this point, during the emergency, for the sake of expediency all of them had been left open. I found a bag and started shopping.   
  
I grabbed IV bags and syringes. I grabbed bandages and latex gloves. I grabbed drugs of types and names that I knew nothing about, two of each. Into the bag. I grabbed packages of things whose use I had no idea about. I left things like stethoscopes and pen lights. I already knew the doctor was carrying those basics around. I found one of those pumps they use to check blood pressure. I found little monitors and blood sugar testing kits. All into the bag. I didn't know when I'd ever get an opportunity like this again, and if we didn't need all of it for today's crisis, we'd probably need some of it for tomorrow's.   
  
When I'd taken all I could possibly carry and still manage a hostage, I went looking for a room. There were no empty rooms, not now, but there were rooms that had coma victims in them, people who were unconscious right through the disappearances. I picked one, noted its number, and dropped my stuff in it.   
  
Then it was back to the security terminal, which had a PA system. I tried not to think of all the time I was spending as I got the pager going. "Dr. Perry to room 701. Dr. Perry to room 701."   
  
I watched him look up and frown in deep irritation, but there was no suspicion. Good. And as antsy as it made me (time, you know), he took the time to finish digging the bullet out of the woman he was tending. He bandaged her and then, and only then, did he head for the elevators.   
  
I ran back to 701 and hid in a closet by the door, waiting for him to arrive. Alone with an unconscious stranger and the beeping and whirring of the monitors and machinery that sustained him, it seemed to take forever for the guy to appear.   
  
But appear he did. He walked in, still frowning, and stared at the monitors. "What the..."   
  
I drew my sai and leaped out of the closet behind him. I shoved him into the wall and put the blade in his face. I let the sunglasses slide down my beak and stared into his eyes. I kept my voice very quiet though...I was going for scary, and quiet is scarier than loud. Its just that loud is usually easier -- and usually I figure my opponents are gonna be in a world of pain soon enough, so why bother scarin' 'em? "Listen up, Doc," I said. "Cause I'm only gonna say this once. There are a whole lotta Doctors in this hospital and I only need one. You can come with me, or I can just kill you and page the next one."   
  
Now that was a pretty image, wasn't it? Me and coma boy and a growing pile of doctor corpses that I wasn't even sure I had the stomach to make...I gritted my teeth. That sort of crap shows up in the eyes. I couldn't show any weakness.   
  
"You're desperate," he commented.   
  
I pressed the sai under his throat, letting it draw a little blood. Damn it. My hands were shaking. "Today's a great day for desperation. Yes, or no, Doc?"   
  
"I'll come with you."   
  
I grabbed him under the arm and dragged him over to the bed so I could grab my bag of supplies. I slung that over one shoulder. "Alright. We're going down to the lower parking garage." It was a day for stealing stuff. Leo was gonna have a cat. If he'd snapped out of it yet. Well, let him. He was the one who always figured us for "good guys". Me, I figure us for ninja caught up in a war. Leo could talk bushido all day long, but bushido was the _ samurai _ code, not the ninja. Ninja might be good to have on your side, sure, might even have a just cause, but they killed in the night and took what they needed. So we stop to help the weak and helpless...well that's what makes us decent people at some level, what redeems us a little bit. That's all it is.   
  
Dr. Perry was very calm. I took him to the elevators, glad the things went all the way down. I dodged security cameras. When I found an SUV with unlocked doors, I shoved him in the back seat and started driving. I was annoyed; there'd been quite a few opportunities for him to break and escape. It was my first kidnapping and already I'd figured out that it was probably a good idea to have a second guy around, maybe to at least sit in the get away car and make sure your guy doesn't get away while you move around to the driver's seat. Perry never tried though. He just buckled his seatbelt.   
  
I really liked the guy. All I could figure was that he'd realized right away that I really needed help, and couldn't get it the normal way.   
  
So I knew, for all my brave talk to my brothers, that I wouldn't be able to kill him. If he became a problem, I knew we'd be running instead.   
  
** Author Notes: ** Left Behind isn't my property, the Turtles aren't my property. I did make up Dr. Perry tho.   
  
Jo Dawn: *grins* Good, cause your story is awesome.   
  
RSkimB: Thanks! I was very nervous about the Casey chapter.   
  
Machias Banshee: Yeah, Bible interpretation can be hard. For this story I'm going with the interpretations of LaHaye and Jenkins though.   
  
In The Clouds: Have a great time in Mexico!   
  
Maria: Thanks!   
  
Ramica: First he's got to convince himself.   
  
Tripmon: Thanks!   
  
Reinbeauchaser: Bless you too!   
  



	25. Treasure Chest

25 

  
  


Leo 

  
  
When I enter Father's quarters, it's always the scents that take me first. Green tea and sandlewood incense, the green and live smells of vines and other indoor plants kept freshly watered, the faint herbal smells of the natural soaps he used to keep his chambers clean.   
  
I had run in here before to gather his fallen clothes and not noticed any of it, but now the smells washed over me in a wave, somehow, simultaneously, reminding me that he really was gone, and yet, making me feel as if he was forever, eternal, always with me. It was enough to make me choke up and threaten to break down again, but I closed my eyes and took deep, even breaths instead, embracing what my senses picked up and enjoying them for what they were instead of letting them bring any sharp reminders or regrets.   
  
Even when I was finished I still felt a little like an intruder as I padded through the room. He'd had Don order him sets of traditional tatami mats and the Japanese style bedding and cushions that fit with them, hand in glove. The plants were spread around the room, most of them hanging from the ceiling and left to grow freely, their leafy arms stretching out where they would to embrace the corners of the room. The immense, antique footlocker style wooden chest where he kept all of his things almost seemed a little out of place.   
  
It was unlocked -- none of us, normally, would ever go near his things after all. I opened it, feeling almost as if I were robbing a shrine. I started removing items, at first to find what I needed...but it didn't take long for it to turn into something more than that.   
  
The first thing I removed was his tea set. He had several different varieties of tea, all placed in canisters. He owned an old fashioned style strainer. Father had never approved of teabags. He thought they ruined the tea. There was also a little honey, also set in a canister, a few small, silver spoons, and five handleless, porcelain cups. Those were white, but they'd been carefully lacquered in red to show off several kanji that I couldn't read.   
  
Next he had five flat, black sushi platters. They'd been lacquered in gold: an elegant bird pattern sweeping across the edges. A black velvet bag held two long, simple silver chopsticks. A silver polishing kit was after that; Father took taking care of his nice things very seriously.   
  
A sewing kit and rivers of fabric came next. Some of it was odds and ends. I found some of the fabric he'd used on our hakama, for example, and the softer, patterned fabrics he'd used on our gis and his. A sudden, striking reminder of all the quiet ways in which he'd taken care of us, provided for our needs.   
  
His incense set came next; that I set aside for my own, personal use. That, and maybe one of his cushions, was what I'd come in here for in the first place.   
  
I started to put all the rest away when I noticed one last item at the very bottom of the chest. I reached in and drew it out; a black leather bound journal with well worn pages. It was pretty thick, thick enough to have lasted him for awhile, and had a black fountain pen attached to it. Fountain pens, by the way, are totally awesome, as you can buy cartridges of ink to pop right into them that are a little less expensive than buying, and losing, cheap ballpoint pens that dry up.   
  
I held it for a moment, enjoying the feel. Wanting to read it, not sure if I should. In the end, I had a burning desire to know what he'd written in those yellowed pages. Maybe there'd be something in there that would help me sort out what I'd learned reading Mike's books.   
  
Instead of a diary, though, what I found was a book of haiku that he'd written.   
  
Most of them had our names for titles, and then went on to be about different animals. There was a poem about a bulldog entitled "Raph," for example. Each talked about different qualities we had, some he liked, some that worried him. Mostly, those that worried him.   
  
He'd been worried I was too proud.   
  
Was I? Too proud, too secure, too sure of myself? I had worked very hard to remove every single flaw I had ever found in me. I kept my temper under tight control. I worked very hard, practicing twice as much as my brothers. I didn't have Don's intellect, but I believed that I had honed what I did have into a very strong strategic weapon. I tried hard to follow the virtues of honor and courage.   
  
He'd been worried that I lacked compassion.   
  
I didn't understand that at all. I'd always struggled to protect the weak and innocent that we came across, though we did not, in my opinion, come across too many innocent. Surely that was compassionate?   
  
An accusing little voice cut through my self-defense.   
  
How understanding was I of Raph? I knew he had to go blow off his steam, I knew how hard things were for him, but I usually just yelled at him. Raph was the one person I let my temper go around, because I had to let it go around something, and Raph could push my buttons like nobody else.   
  
And as for pride, did I ever doubt my actions? Did I ever stop to examine them? How often, when one of my plans fail, did I turn to Raph or Don or Mikey and blame it on one of them? Not always out loud, but often, in my head, sure.   
  
Wasn't all that pride and self-confidence and lack of compassion what caused me to ignore Mikey in the first place? Still more: I had found answers to his disappearance. I had found a second chance. But I had to think about it more first. I had to trust my own intellect to tear it apart and strategize it. That's why I was here, in Splinter's room, going through his things in the first place, wasn't it? Because I, proud of my ability to work through anything, had intended to meditate on the problem until I saw something I liked?   
  
Mikey's book, the one I'd read anyway, had talked about nobody being without sin. _ For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God._ That was one of the passages I'd read. It was the sort of stuff Mikey had tried to talk about, though less eloquently.   
  
I did not much care for the word, sin. It sounded archaic, old fashioned, unrealistic. Still, lack of perfection -- which for me, being a perfectionist, is a really hard thing to admit -- that I could see. And sure, I'd done plenty of stuff I was ashamed of. I hugged Splinter's book of poems close, examining myself in a colder light.   
  
And honor. I valued that. But I'd never stopped to consider where my honor, my obligations, lay towards the Creator of all life. I'd never stopped to consider Him at all, not really...and now here I was, short one Father and one brother. Presented with a second chance, why was I reluctant to take it? The whole point of the matter was that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't overcome all my flaws on my own. And even if I did, somehow, through some miracle, did that somehow make the ... well, the sins ... I had committed in the past any less?   
  
Even though I didn't feel I was a bad person all around, even seeing the glaring indifference I'd had towards God all my life made me feel ashamed.   
  
Well, not always glaring indifference. When I wasn't indifferent I was usually angry. At God for leaving us cold and alone in the sewers. Back in the days when I was more often hungry and afraid than full and strong. When my brothers were threatened, or Splinter. When chance seemed turned against us. When my home was destroyed.   
  
I'd never thanked him, though: not when we finally, through sheer chance, learned about recycled cans, not when we found cast off clothes that allowed us to go, however briefly, into grocery stores with that little bit of change. Not when we'd found cast off blankets that made the winters bearable, before any of us could die. Not when we'd found our fist lair in a dry, unused portion of the sewers, not when we'd found our second, an underground lab, complete with rooms of our own and training areas. I'd never thanked him for Don's intellect or meeting April. Some of this...some of it I could lay at the feet of our own ingenuity, drive, determination, skill. Some had come to us through purest chance. Come to think of it, if I believed in "chance", then chance had given me a family instead of leaving me to fend for myself. So why was it, then, when bad things happened I blamed God, but when good things happened I gave all the credit either to myself, my family, or to Chance?   
  
It all came together, all at once for me. I was already on my knees, there by the blanket chest. Now I bowed my head as well. "I think I've realized what Mike was talking about," I said softly. "I need you, God. I need you to make me more than I am and better than I can be on my own. I need the forgiveness you offer. I believe. I understand why Jesus came down and died. Please come into my life. I will do all I can not to dishonor the gift that you've given me. Thank you for your forgiveness."   
  
It was not the pat prayer from the book.   
  
It was my prayer.   
  
I stood up, and felt new inside. It was a small, quiet transformation. With it came the certainty that I'd see Mike again, and Splinter, and moreover they were in a better, happier place.   
  
With it came the realization that I had work to do. Nothing was more important than this truth I'd stumbled upon, this truth that directed the destinies of immortal souls. I had to find a way to share this with the others -- but I had to admit I wasn't sure how. Their -- our -- reactions to Mike hadn't been great.   
  
I put everything back in the blanket chest, remembering Mike's compulsion to read more, study more, learn more about God. I found I had that same hunger within me. I had a mission, a new sort of mission.   
  
I was eager to get to it, but the sound of the hidden garage door opening brought me to attention. The van and the hog were both in there. I drew my bokken and went creeping upstairs just in time to watch Raph arrive, in a stolen SUV, with a doctor.   
  
"Clothes and keys right on the seat," Raph said with a grin. "Ditched the clothes -- they were too small -- but the keys came in handy."   
  
He withdrew a massive black bag and looked back at the doctor. "Coming?"   
  
The doctor seemed very placid. He looked up and nodded to me. I read his nametag first: Dr. Perry -- then looked into his face.   
  
I must have taken a startled step back, because Raph was frowning at me. I couldn't help myself though. The name meant nothing to me.   
  
But I recognized Dr. Perry. I'd met him before.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** This was a pretty hard chapter for me to write. For a little while I honestly struggled trying to write some of the haiku that jolted Leo, but finally gave that up as an exersise best left to better poets than I. I find that writing some conversion experiences also come easier than writing others. I don't own any of the turtles, the cast of Left Behind, etc. Dr. Wayne Perry is, however, my original creation.   
  
Orange Turtle: Aww, you know I like you. =>   
  
Jo Dawn: *grins* Thanks! I wasn't sure if that chapter worked or not, cause, you know, Raph's a little subdued.   
  
Ramica: Yeah, it would be hard if he ever had to do that.   
  
Red Turtle: Nope, the Dr.'s kidnapping is mine all mine.   
  
Tigger56Bounce: Leonardo looks at you reproachfully.   
  
Tripmon: How long will this be? I have absolutely no idea. We're about 100 pages into the Left Behind books on actual events, if I remember correctly. I have a definate point I'm working towards. I know how the story goes, but not necessarily how many chapters it will take to get there. As long as it takes!   
  



	26. A Hard Medicine to Swallow

Raph 

  
  


26 

  
  
Now I know this is going to come as a total shock, but I was reachin' the end of my rope with Leo. First he acts like a head case, and then he and my doctor stand there starin' at each other. Do I know what passed between them? No way. I did know that I didn't bring Perry up here for another demonstration of how weird Leo could act. So I took his arm and pulled him into the lair.   
  
"What did you do with April, Leo?" I asked. "Ya know...the person I brought the Doc here to save?"   
  
Leo seemed to shake himself out of it. "Don's room."   
  
"Fine."   
  
Dr. Perry blinked twice at the sight of April, clumsily bandaged, curled up against Don. "He'll need to be moved," was all he said, though.   
  
I dropped the big black bag of supplies on the floor. "There's stuff there you might need. She was crushed under a bunch of metal and glass in a subway wreck. She was awake for a bit because she called us."   
  
"You shouldn't have moved her," Perry said, sounding distracted as he went rooting through my bag. I extricated Don from April as gently as I could. He woke up though.   
  
"The Doctor needs you to get out of his way," I explained. "You can rest in my room."   
  
"I'm fine. I'll stick around to help him." Don opened his eyes really wide and tried to pull away from me.   
  
"He don't need no help, he went to medical school."   
  
Perry opened his mouth and I shot him a glare. I was not about to let Don stay in here to help work on April. Perry instead withdrew an IV and said merely, "Do you gentlemen have any rubbing alcohol and cotton balls?"   
  
Yeah. That, we had already. I dragged Don into my room and plunked him on my bed. "Your computer is still in a hostage situation," I warned him. He laid down with a look that almost seemed meek. Good!   
  
Then I went to the bathroom and got the alcohol and the cotton balls, along with our iodine, our acupuncture stuff, our hydrogen peroxide, our band-aids, and our herbal muscle relaxants. I had no idea what he'd need and I didn't want to run back and forth to the bathroom all night.   
  
I returned. Leo started to walk in. I shoved him back out and shut the door in his face. I had words for Leo. I also had a fist for Leo, but all of that could wait. The Doc maybe needed another set of hands, fine, but it was gonna be me. Not the injured brother and not the brother who hadn't been able to walk without a direct order just a few hours ago.   
  
Perry blinked again when I brought all the stuff in. I set it down. He grabbed the rubbing alcohol and washed his hands in it, then used a gauze swab to get them dry, grimacing. He found some of the latex gloves I'd grabbed and pulled a pair on. He nodded at the iodine. "Bring me that. Is she allergic?"   
  
"Dunno."   
  
"Does she eat seafood?"   
  
"Seafood? Yeah, she eats seafood."   
  
"Then she'll probably be alright." He swabbed her arm and set up the IV. There was no stand. He pulled out one of his shoelaces, looped it through the hole that the hook would normally go through, and looped the whole thing over the bedpost. I was pretty impressed.   
  
"Now you get to learn how to perform a blood transfusion," he said dryly, "because I am going to need help."   
  
"I don't know my blood type," I said.   
  
"Don't care about your blood type. I'm O-. Universal donor. I also know for a fact that I do not have any diseases that will cause her difficulty. Did you get any blood donor bags in here?"   
  
"Think so." What luck! Out of all the doctors in the hospital I chose the guy who could donate blood to anyone! I grinned and pulled out the materials. Oh yeah. I am good.   
  
He held out his arm, probed for a vein, and said, "Alright. I want you to insert the needle right there..." he talked me through getting a pint of his blood. It wasn't really that hard. I decided I'd stick around more often when Don was doing this stuff; it couldn't hurt to have someone else around who had a clue when it came to medicine.   
  
With blood and IV fluid now dripping steadily into April, he waved me to a corner to wait. I couldn't tell if it was helping or not. She looked just as pale as she had when we started. He pulled out some of the drugs I'd gotten for him. He found one he liked and gave her a shot of that. Then he started his examination in earnest.   
  
The hum of Don's clock is what drove me crazy through this. I found myself staring at the red numbers, holding my breath for a moment before the number made its silent change.   
  
He was cutting off bandage and replacing them with stitches. He was cutting off clothes; I found myself very glad that April had gone with the oversized shirt look for the day, because that was about all he was leaving her. "Did you get plaster of Paris?"   
  
"Yeah."   
  
"Good. Get some gauze, get out the Plaster of Paris, follow the directions, bring the whole mess back to me."   
  
Casts. Well of course she was going to need casts. This wasn't hard though; broken bones were our most common malady, and not only had I grabbed Plaster of Paris from the hospital, but we also had a fair bit of our own. I'd made casts before. I got him what I needed and brought it over, and was surprised to see approval in his eyes.   
  
Then he cut off the shirt and I averted my eyes, which he seemed to find funny. Well, let him. She was like...like my sister, for cryin' out loud. But he said, "Sorry, but you're going to have to get over it. I need you to hold her upright while I get these ribs in a cast, too. She's lucky; from the sound of it she didn't puncture a lung, but broken ribs are nothing to play with."   
  
What could I do? I got over it.   
  
She seemed very cold and very frail as I held her up for Perry's work. He seemed to breathe easier with each step in the process, though, and I took that as a good sign. I held her up and I watched blood, drop by life-giving drop, slide down into her arm.   
  
"Now I need you to roll her over," Perry said softly, "but keep holding on to her, because I don't want her face down. I need to get a look at her back."   
  
I tucked her into my arms and rolled her over. My eyes went wide. How had I missed the piece of shrapnel that was lodged right in the middle of her lower back? It had been dark in the subway and she'd had all that blood and her shirt and everything, that's how. It wasn't a huge piece. I was glad to see it was the only piece.   
  
But Perry looked pretty grim as he got out a scalpel and made a careful slit, I suppose so he wouldn't tear anything else as he pulled it, gently, out. But once it was out he made another cut, gently peeling back flaps of skin. Getting a look at something? We didn't have an X-ray, after all, so I guess he'd have to go in to get a look. I also guessed it had to be pretty important for him to risk it.   
  
He saw what he needed to see pretty quickly and got the whole thing sewed back up tight. "Good thing you didn't try and remove that on your own," he said, pointing to the piece of metal. "You might have done more damage. Lay her back down now, I'll get her legs in a cast."   
  
"Man, she's really messed up," I said. My voice sounded weird to me.   
  
"Hold it together," Perry ordered. "You're doing fine. But hold it together. And get me more casts ready, you didn't make enough."   
  
I did as he said.   
  
It seemed like he wound miles and miles of cast around both of April's legs. He got that done, though, and the covered her up. "Best I can do for her from here," he said. "I'll want a cot. She'll need constant monitoring, and she can't be moved, and you're not qualified." He shot down every objection I could think of before I could even decide whether or not I wanted to voice them in the first place.   
  
"Ok. I'll get you set up. Will she be ok?" I resigned myself to sleeping on the sofa. She was gonna need Don's bed awhile, which meant Don was gonna need mine. And I wasn't really keen on taking Mike's.   
  
"And get me a basin of really hot water, a new garbage can that will only be used for medical waste, and something to eat. You dragged me away from all my other patients, so I'm doing this one right. But I need to be clean and fed and the waste has to be taken care of properly. And then maybe I'll look at whatever is wrong with your arms."   
  
I'd forgotten all about my arms. The moment he mentioned them they started to burn. My coat sleeves had affixed themselves to the raw, bloody patches where I'd gotten scored by Leo's swords going into and out of the subway car. The arms weren't the only place I had some nasty shallow wounds, and it hadn't only been the swords, but I'd forgotten. "I will! Now is she going to be ok or not?"   
  
Perry hesitated. "She's out of immediate danger but will require constant care to stay that way. And, as best I can tell, that piece of metal severely damaged her spinal cord. There's a high probability that she will not walk again."   
  
That stunned me into silence. I went to go get what he asked me for. Leo started talking at me the moment I stepped out of the door, but I ignored him. I would deal with Leo in just a moment, but it was my turn to need a moment to process stuff. First Mikey and our Dad, and now April was maybe going to never walk again. It was all way too much.   
  
Leo kept talking. Didn't he get it? Didn't he _ get _ that my ears were roaring and my heart was pounding and I couldn't even hear whatever the hell he was saying? Moron! I turned around and punched him. It caught him by surprise. He stumbled back, rubbing his jaw, glaring at me.   
  
As pleasantly as I could I said: "Back off until I'm ready to talk to you or I swear I will kick your ass."   
  
Normally he'd have responded with some counter-threat, but I don't know if it was something in my eyes or my tone or just the day or what, but he backed off.   
  
"If you wanna make yourself useful you can get the Doc a big basin of really hot water while I handle his other requests," I continued.   
  
Then I went after the rest of what Perry needed, lost somewhere between grief and fury. How dare Leo check out on me, leave me to handle everything, and then pounce me with stupid inane questions -- at least I think that is what he was saying -- the minute I walked out of the sickroom? Good of him to rejoin the world of the living after everything was already done.   
  
I put a dent in the fridge, punching it before I withdrew some food from it for the doctor. All at once, in my mind, I could feel one burning hatred, one solid fact sort of take form and lodge there. Whoever or whatever was behind the disappearances, and all the accidents and misery that came with them, was gonna pay.   
  
** Author Notes: **   
  
Jo Dawn: Thanks!! That chapter took me about a week so I'm glad the effort paid off.   
  
Maria: *grins*   
  
Machias Banshee: Thank you very much!!!!   
  
Ramica: *grins* Yeah, I gave it up after the fifth or sixth really bad haiku attempt.   
  
Orange Turtle: Keeping you in my prayers.   
  
RskimB: Thanks!   
  
Tigger56bounce: Thank you so much for letting me know. I love knowing that God is able to reach out even through something fun! I'll keep you in my prayers.   
  



	27. Emotion & Logic

27 

  
  


Don 

  
  
I was getting severely annoyed at being shuffled from bed to bed because my brothers couldn't stop mother henning me. Did it help that they were probably right? Absolutely not. Did it help to remember that I'd been face first on the floor less than a day ago? No.   
  
Logic, and emotion, you see, exist in two utterly different places. Logic, say, lives on the east coast. Maybe here in New York, or in Boston. It sits in nice, clean places where kudzu climbs in a charming manner alongside brick buildings, visible from whatever gourmet coffee shop perch you've chosen for the day as you discuss your latest theory with the Professor whose office is down the hall from yours.   
  
Emotion, though, lives somewhere out in California, some riotous place where they play music at top volume while drinking alcohol and eating a beansprout burger with a side of extremely greasy fries and calling the whole mess a healthy meal as you try to decide whether you're going to get up and dance or sit there admiring the way the incense opens up your foot chakra and attunes you to the higher vibrations of the revolution and my girl left me and that's ok cause-I-have-a-little-packet-of-speed-right-here.   
  
The fact that I have never experienced anything like the things in my analogies does not make them any less apt: Emotion, out in California, rarely cares what Logic is doing...even if Logic does occasionally pick up the phone to try to talk some sense into Emotion. The music is too loud, the pina coladas too good, and Emotion usually just ends up yelling happily that Logic is breaking up but that he can look him up the next time he's over that way.   
  
It's us people standing out in the Midwest (where you can take your pick of both experiences) that end up confused, because we have to listen to both of them. So that's where I was at, laying there, staring up at Raph's ceiling. I was listening to Logic sip its mocha cappuchino and inform me that not only was Raph absolutely correct, I was going to kill myself, nanites or no nanites, if I didn't rest, but that I could be absolutely no help in April's situation when I could barely stand. I was also listening to Emotion fume and rant at being shoved to the side, to it worry about April and want her back in my arms, and who wanted to know where my brother and father were (Logic had nothing to say on that matter except that I did not have enough evidence to form a proper hypothesis). The whole thing was enough to make me dizzy.   
  
So it was a welcome relief when I heard Leo and Raph arguing in the hall. I strained my ears to hear what was said, but both of them were being uncharacteristically quiet about it. Good, maybe they were actually being considerate. It was even more of a relief when Leo came into the room and shut the door.   
  
For a long time we just looked at each other. It was surreal. For seventy eight seconds we were total strangers. Him in his formal clothes, me wrapped up in a blanket, and both of us, in all places, in Raphael's room.   
  
Then the moment was gone. He came and sat down next to me. "You'll never guess who Raph brought home."   
  
I waited. A little grumpy. Of course I wouldn't guess. What did he think, I had telepathy?   
  
I was grateful that it didn't take Leo to catch my mood. "Do you remember the Byakko Affair?"   
  
I blinked. Now there was something I hadn't given any thought to in a long time.   
  
It had all started with Stockman. He'd begun experiments on E.S.P. Apparently being reduced to not much more than a cybernetic head had begun awakening some new senses. 90% of our brain is usually unused, after all. I only know because I found his journals at one point, but apparently he'd begun having visions of the future that had started to come true.   
  
Of course, that wasn't really good enough for him. He couldn't just take it for what it was, no, he had to figure out a way to turn it into a weapon. He'd begun kidnapping street kids. Of course, it didn't take long for Saki to catch on to what he was doing and take over the whole operation, taking it large scale.   
  
Mikey and Raph had been out that time, getting food. Mikey spotted one of the kidnappings. The one that proved to be the clincher for the whole mess: the kidnapping of Jenny Sang. Who had not been a runaway or a street kid at all, simply someone who registered particularly high on Stockman's diagnostics.   
  
Mikey had gotten angry though, angrier than any of us had ever seen him, according to Raph. He'd jumped on the back of the truck taking the little girl away and ended up caught himself. Raph had chased after him but, thanks to another car cutting him off, had been left behind, only to be attacked and taken by a Chinese gang we hadn't even known existed. They were called the Byakko Group, and Jenny was the leader's niece. The Byakko Group took Raph thinking that he'd had something to do with it all, and Raph, with Raph's mouth, didn't really get a chance to set them straight as he instead chose to taunt them until they beat him unconscious.   
  
Back home, Leo and I had been clueless for awhile. Then I traced the cell phone, which sitting in the middle of the kidnapping site, checked the local news for the day, and, bingo, we were able to begin piecing together what had happened. After days of investigation we arrived at Saki's research facility in upstate New York just in time for all hell to break loose.   
  
Because Jenny had enough raw talent to make Stockman's work dangerous on her. It didn't help that Saki decided the best use for Mike would be to hook him up to Jenny and use him as a living battery so she could last longer. E.S.P. uses up bodily energy just like running a marathon does. There's nothing mystical or magical about it, its just a natural process that the bulk of the population doesn't use.   
  
The Byakko Group, who had also found the facility, were just about to attack it, and we were about to sneak in after Mike, when Jenny took matters into her own hands. Not only did she attack telekinetically, but empathic screams went tearing through everyone's mind. It was pretty terrifying, and all of it came out of one twelve year old girl. But the strain on her brain was too great. Something ruptured, and she nearly killed herself, and as she lay there the battle broke out again in earnest all around us.   
  
It was paradoxical how calm the man in the tan Cavalier was.   
  
The little car simply drove right up to the site, despite the fact that it was miles away (thankfully!) from any town. This short black man with a doctor's bag stepped out and walked right up to Jenny. One of the Byakko nearly shot him, but Leo and I decided to defend him while he worked. To this day I maintain that he has some sort of E.S.P. of his own, one that called him to the lab site that day, and one that let him know exactly what to do to save her life. Not many doctors could perform emergency brain surgery, accurately, on the field, without even so much as an X-ray. The girl actually lived, and after a lot of recovery, went on to live normally.   
  
We never even got his name though. We covered him while he got Jenny to his car and I managed to tackle one of her brothers and get it through his head what was going on, so the Byakko group quit attacking us and didn't chase the car, but put their attention on Saki instead. The mystery doctor got Jenny to a hospital. We got Mike back, and later Raph, who had been shoved in someone's trunk and forgotten. Mike had acted like he already knew most of the details and Raph was too pissed to want to know.   
  
"Are you telling me Raph brought home our mystery brain surgeon?"   
  
Leo nodded. "Isn't it crazy? Out of all the doctors in the city, he brings home the one we can be absolutely sure won't give us away, because he never did? Someone who we know for a fact is a genius at what he does? It can't just be coincidence. His name is Perry, by the way. It says so on his nametag."   
  
"I wonder if the guy engineered it somehow." Glad though I was that a doctor of such obvious caliber was tending to April, yeah, a part of me was a little jealous. _ I _ was supposed to be the medic of the family. Who was in there working on her? Perry. And who was in there helping? Not me, but Raphael? It rankled a bit. Logic had itself a specialty bagel and informed me I was being ridiculous. I agreed, but still felt grouchier than ever.   
  
And Leo, paranoid Leo, said, "What possible reason would he have? Today of all days? I mean I don't have the story from Raph on how he got him or anything."   
  
I shrugged. Who needed to argue the point? Fact is I trusted the guy. He'd risked his life to save a little girl he didn't even know, and could have gotten his brains splattered all over her instead if we hadn't have been both good and lucky. As far as extending the benefit of the doubt went, he'd already earned that right from me. "You're right. Those are some long odds. For a change, we got insanely lucky."   
  
Leo looked almost eager, and I didn't get that. "Are you sure its luck? What are the chances of that happening?"   
  
"Leo," I said, "did you know the proper way to go about making an argument is to first state the thesis, _ then _ the supporting evidence, not the other way around?"   
  
Leo looked startled. I'd caught him. He hadn't wanted me to know he was trying to make a point until he sprang it on me. I swallowed a laugh, which I knew would have been awfully unkind of me. Leo thought that nobody at all could ever read him. Truth is, he wears his emotions on his sleeve, if you bother to look. Mike and I were just usually nice enough not to let him know that he wasn't as stoic and stonefaced as he thought, and Raph just didn't bother to read Leo's emotions. To Raph, if you didn't say it, it didn't count, and shouldn't be addressed.   
  
He recovered quickly though. "Alright. Here's my thesis. There is a God, Mike was right, and God is demonstrating this by bringing Dr. Perry to us right now. Those are some huge odds, Don, that he'd be here, you said so yourself."   
  
"It was huge odds that he'd end up at the Byakko Affair too, and when he did that we assumed a level of extrasensory perception."   
  
That stopped him, but only for a minute. "Don, I really believe that Mike and Splinter are in Heaven right now, with God. And I believe we've got another chance, a chance to end up with them someday and see them again."   
  
"I can see why that thought might occur to you," I said. "But I hope you're wrong."   
  
I regretted saying it, if only because he looked like I'd just slapped him, but I plowed on anyway.   
  
"If you're right, it means that God is sadistic and cruel. Look at all the horrible stuff that's happened today -- above and beyond us losing our family to this phenomena. So God picks out a few people he thinks are good enough and the rest of us get to be down here and be in pain and think about what bad boys and girls we all were? And what exactly is the criteria? Mike wasn't any better than us morally, he was just Mike. And April is better than all four of us put together. She's not only still here, but she could be dying! I'd rather live in a universe where space aliens zap hundreds of people somewhere and God is actually a decent guy, and, I might add, we can get them back, somehow, then in a universe where God is so cruel!"   
  
I hadn't realized I was raising my voice until Leo actually stood and took a few steps back. It always startled my brothers when I got adamant about anything. Adamant? I was infuriated. I needed to yell, to scream, to beat against something because there was this horrible ache in my chest, so tight and hard it seemed like a physical wound that would be there forever. Hello, Emotion, my old friend.   
  
"It's not being more or less of a sinner. We're all equally sinners, everyone. The ones that got taken, though, they sought forgiveness."   
  
"So this is how you go from useless and damn near catatonic to sunny and bouncing in the space of, what, eight hours? Nine? You go get religion?"   
  
Another dart thrown, and this one, too, hit home. Leo grew a little pale. Part of me hated myself for what I was doing to him. The other part took deep, sucking breaths and begged for more, because every little hit I scored on him loosened the pain in my chest just a little.   
  
He recovered, though. "Alright, Don. I understand that you're feeling terrible right now. I won't push you. But I love you and I..." he swallowed, and I felt even more ashamed, because I could see well enough that he was choking back tears. "Will you at least stay open to the possibility? To...the hypothesis, at least, in a sea of others?"   
  
I relented, just a little. I smiled to show him I had, smiled, just a little, at his attempt to use my terminology. "I'll keep an open mind," I promised. "That's all I can give you right now, Leo, I'm sorry. Everything is just too terrible and raw."   
  
He nodded a little.   
  
"Are those wooden swords?"   
  
"Huh? Oh, yeah."   
  
I smiled at him a bit. "When they let you in my room, go get the black box out of my closet. Don't look in it because its a surprise, but bring me my toolkit, too. I can at least do something useful while I'm lying here. It's a project I started ages ago."   
  
"Are you sure you're -- "   
  
I cut him off. "Leonardo, if you ask me if I'm up to it..." I let the warning tone speak for itself, as I didn't have any real threat I was willing to offer, but he took the hint.   
  
"I'll be right back," he promised.   
  
I breathed a sigh of relief. He'd bring me my project, and then I could retreat from the Midwest. I'd be back at the sunny Boston cafe, where I belonged, if only for a little while.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** Wow. I just realized how long it took me to update this time. My deepest apologies! Also I'd like to take this opportunity to thank everyone for your reviews, as a group, in addition to the individual thanks I'm going to give. But! To Jesus goes the glory. If this is some of the best writing I've ever done (and it is) its cause Jesus is there holding my hand. (Doesn't mean I don't enjoy the pats on the back though. ;> I am also toying with a prequel...the Byakko affair would be sort of a fun story to write.  
  
Jo Dawn: Heh, well, with Raph, hatred is sort of the knee jerk response I think.   
  
Maria: Thanks!   
  
Rene: *smiles* Well you're not going to make me give away the plot now are you?   
  
In the Clouds: A Don chapter just for you! Heh. I rather identify with Raph. And Dr. Perry just sort of came to me...so I have my guesses on whose idea he really was.   
  
Ramica: Yeah...and Leo, poor Leo, hasn't figured out yet the fine art of _ timing _...   
  
Orange Turtle: Heh...ah...no, I faked it, actually. I do a lot of reading and I watch Everwood, and I once had a C-section...that is the extent of my medical contact. If a real doctor ever read that chapter I suspect he or she might be rolling their eyes.   
  
Tigger56bounce: Thank god for using me to get you more in touch with Him.   
  
Tripmon: I'm thinking about it.   
  
solidchristian-88: Well I intend to end Midnight Cry at around the same point Left Behind ends. If everyone seems interested I'll take the Turtles through the series, and though I intend to try to weave in more Left Behind characters I also want to try to preserve the integrity of that series as much as possible...basically by not having to change anything that happened to the Trib Force by having the turtles share this universe. That's a delicate balancing act. I've only gotten to the 6th book of the Kids series but I actually do see a lot of potential in the Kids for more crossover action...pondering that for later fics. And heh, thanks for those comments on style. Yeah, I've just always belived if a swear word is what the character would say at that moment in time...not to shrink from it. People do what they do, and its sometimes noble and its sometimes ugly, even after they're Christians, and only God can help maximize the one and wash clean the other.   
  
Until next time. 


	28. Moving Forward

28 

  
  


Casey 

  
  
A week makes a lot of difference. It never seems like very much time at all, but really, if ya really give it some thought, the whole world is usually changed in less than a week. Put aside the recent disaster for a moment. World War I started in a single day, you know, when whoever that prince was got shot. That sure changed the world. The Declaration of Independence wasn't written in a day, but it was signed in a day, and its the signing that was important.   
  
So in a week, New York's main drags were completely cleared out of the most massive gridlock and damage ever done to a city, and if some of the buildings (like that women's clothing's store that got a car straight through it) are still screwed up, people could at least drive, get around, which meant places were opening for business again. People were reporting into work, bosses were trying to take inventory on who was missing and therefore what positions would need to be filled, and the sounds of traffic again filled the streets.   
  
In a week, you learn that catatonic young women -- that's what Angel is now, I guess, a young woman, nearly 18, moving from scrawny kid to a new category entirely without me even really noticin' the years -- don't talk when awake, but they scream madly while asleep. They thrash in the grip of nightmares and they seem to be moving further and further away from you, retreating to some far corner of their mind where they'll never come out. You look down at that, a pint of some girly type of ice cream in your hand (lime sherbert, I think, April sure had enough of it in her fridge) and you stick the spoon in the ice cream and set it on some antiquey looking bedside table and you let it melt all over said table while you try to rock the screaming little girl-woman in your arms until she goes back to sleep for real. Then you swear and you take off your shirt and you wipe off the table which is starting to show some battle scars itself, thinking this is a lot like last night and the night before, only the night before last it was a girly type wine cooler and the night before it was, of all things, a freaking flavored water.   
  
And somehow your old neighborhood friend, the kid you swore to protect, becomes mingled up with bedside tables and drink spills, all in yer mind. You start thinkin', _ Well Casey, you can't complain about the food, you're a, not in your own apartment and b, out of money anyway _. You think that, then you wonder about your job.   
  
Yeah, a lot in a week.   
  
It took me a week to realize that I had checked in neither with April nor my job. I decided to call and see if I still had one. Jose, the Site Supervisor, was the only number I had in my cell. I had a construction job, you see. As I found the number I hoped Jose hadn't been zapped by the Aliens too. That was one of the theories on T.V., and the only one that made sense to me.   
  
But he answered on the first ring, yay him, yay me.   
  
"Jose, we still workin'?"   
  
"Hey man, was just about to call you now that this stupid phone is working. Naw, man, the site was trashed. Some joker flyin' a sport plane decided to disappear and crash right into it. I don' know when we're gonna get back to work on that one. Company's still in business and everything, but I don' know when we're gonna have work again, you know?"   
  
That had been another thing that had changed in a week. Companies were going belly up left and right. A lot of 'em were insurance companies, but nobody was spared. Sometimes it was lack of leadership. Sometimes it was half their resources being wrecked. A lot of it was little companies, but quite a few of the bigger ones had up and died.   
  
"Well crap. Got any leads on anything I can do in the meantime, pal?"   
  
"Yeah, actually. There's this foreign dignitary guy, comin' into town for the United Nations meeting. He wants some security guards for his operation, and has decided to hire here instead of transporting all his people over. I'm takin' an app down this afternoon, myself. His name is, uh, lemme check here, Carpathia, there it is. Nicolai Carpathia. Some Romanian clown. Got anything bad in your past that would keep you from doin' it?"   
  
Nothing the cops could find on a background check.   
  
"Naw, naw, man, I'm clean. What's the pay lookin' like?"   
  
"About 15 an hour. I know it ain't great, but right now..."   
  
I looked back at Angel, who was staring out the window from her seat in the bed. "Pay is pay," I said flatly. "I'll be down there myself."   
  
I stared around the apartment when I hung up the phone. Mostly, I stared in Angel's direction, probably looking a little catatonic myself. What if she fell asleep and started having nightmares again while I was out trying to get hired? She needed a hospital, a real mental hospital, and when I got my first paycheck I'd be able to arrange something for her. It was a sure bet nobody else was going to.   
  
But in the meantime...   
  
I dialed Raph next.   
  
"I need you to come and watch Angel while I go apply for a job."   
  
"Fine."   
  
He sounded exhausted.   
  
"Is April ok?"   
  
A long pause. Then, "She's pretty jumped up on drugs, fades in and out, but Doc says she'll be able to get off 'em soon."   
  
There was something in there, something he wasn't telling me, but you know what? Right then I didn't have the energy to call him on it. Instead I said, "Good to hear. What time can you be over?"   
  
"Gimmie 3 hours."   
  
Which gave me time to shower and dress and find something decent to wear. I still had some clothes in April's living room closet. Not for the reasons I'd have liked to have had clothes in April's living room closet, but because twice or three or four or five or six upon a time we'd all been in serious danger, and we all crammed into April's apartment to live crankily ever after so we could protect one another.   
  
I realized with another grumpy jolt that "we" was a misnomer. April and Them were 'we'. I just happened to be along for the ride sometimes.   
  
But as I yanked out a white shirt, I reflected that at least being along for the ride seemed to include getting your shirts ironed, because it sure hadn't looked so crisp when I'd first stuck it in there.   
  
Of course, that's just one of those little gestures that made me wish things were different.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** Thought I'd forgotten ya, didn't you? Nope! Just busy. Will get more up soon.   
  
Jo Dawn: Oh wow! That line was such a complete accident on my part. Though maybe not on God's...   
  
In The Clouds: Gomen nasai! Gomen nasai! I will try to be faster!   
  
Ramica: Thank you, I was afraid everyone was gonna find it pompous and corny!   
  
Tripmon: Thank you very much!   
  
Orange Turtle: Well, he could be mean because he was under stress, and one of the things we do while under stress is attack. Even Donatello.   
  
Red Turtle: Thanks!   
  
solidchristian-88: Actually the Left Behind character reaction I was thinking about as I wrote Donnie was Clhoe's. However, I felt like Ryan was one of the most realistic in the first series and the first one to confront the, "Hey wait, a whole bunch of people just went to /hell/," aspect of the Rapture, so he may have creeped up in there.   
  



	29. Tough Love

29 

  
  


Leo 

  
  
The next week was so quiet it was almost eerie. April had woken up, but neither Raph nor Doc Perry were letting Don or I near her, nor would they tell us what was happening. Don had gotten slowly better, but had thrown himself into whatever it was he was working on. I was left to wander the remaining rooms of our home, feeling much like the sole survivor of a ghost town.   
  
So I'd thrown myself into work of my own. There was the Word of God to study, which I discovered became more and more clear as I dug into it. I discovered I felt the urge to study even more than I felt the urge to train my martial arts skills, though I spent plenty of time with that, too. Sometimes I'd be thinking or worrying about something and the name of a Bible book that I'd never really read, just glanced at the title in passing if that, would float into my mind. I'd look it up and start reading, and when I did I found the answer to what I was thinking about was often there in the text. It was exciting: I was actually carrying on a conversation with God! I still had trouble interpreting the prophetic passages, however. Beasts, locusts, pits...things like "earthquake" and "wars" were pretty easy, but everything else just seemed vaguely horrifying with no real connection to reality. My "Are We Living In the End Times" book mostly covered signs that led up to what it called the Tribulation that would come after the Rapture -- it did not cover the Tribulation itself. That was promised in an upcoming book, though it also pointed towards some other volumes that would give a student a head start.   
  
At one point Don let me into Raph's room long enough for me to jump on the Internet. He had put his project away and was taking a nap, so I stayed quiet while I looked up Earthquakes. There was a list of Earthquakes and their Richter scale rating dating back as far as the 1500s that the government had put out. I didn't much pay attention until the 20th century, when I knew the measurement and records would be a little more reliable, but I was amazed to note that there had been more and more earthquakes of higher and higher frequencies measured as the records approached our present day. It had been just another sign, a pointer to what was coming, that people missed or ignored or didn't want to talk or think about. I read Jesus' parable of the Fig Tree -- how we couldn't know the day or the hour but we could make a reasonable guess of the season by looking at the signs things were "ripe." This was not, I thought, vague at all, but laid out in red and white on the Bible page. Had I only thought to read it and believe it beforehand, I would have known that Jesus' return was near.   
  
Morning and evening I spent in deep, halting prayer. I prayed for my brothers and for April, and our new friend Dr. Perry as well, that I could make them see the truth of our salvation and the hope that I now held.   
  
I gradually came to recognize that I might not be the instrument by which that happened. I felt God was warning me to be persistent, but not pushy, and to trust Him to take care of it. To listen; if I listened, I felt, I'd know when I was doing good and doing harm. God understood my brother's emotions better than I did, and my friend's. I knew, too, that Mike was up there, in heaven, tugging on God's sleeve day and night, reminding him and asking him to do something about the situation. I thought wryly that God would eventually help bring about their salvation if only to shut Mike up -- and then laughed out loud when I stumbled across a parable that said nearly the same thing only a few hours after thinking it.   
  
I was deep in study once again at the end of the week when Raph came out of April's room. He gave my Bible a narrow look and then looked back at me. "The Doc's asleep and I gotta go do a favor for Casey. He's gotta go apply for a job or somethin' and he wants me to watch Angel. She's messed up bad. So you should probably go in there with April. She's awake."   
  
I closed my Bible and laid it aside. Raph relaxed a little, relieved, I guess, that I wasn't going to immediately greet her with proselytizing. I might have been offended if he didn't look so worn out. I stood up and he grabbed my arm.   
  
"Leo. Her spinal cord got ripped up. She's not gonna walk no more."   
  
It took a moment for that to sink in. April...crippled? In a world that was about to get more dangerous than ever?   
  
Have you ever heard the cliche "my heart sank?" It sounds stupid until you feel it happen to you. Only your heart sort of joins to your stomach and they all clench in this sick feeling which makes you feel like your insides are sweating, and then that plummets and bounces up again before settling in a sick lump in your gut. "Sinking" does not begin to cover this feeling.   
  
"She's not gonna walk no more," Raph said again, "and she's messed up over it. Nothin' I say is helping, and she won't eat or nothin', and that's making her other injuries hit her harder. _ Do something about it. _" Then he let go of my arm and rushed from the room. I heard his motorcycle start up a few seconds later.   
  
I closed my eyes to get centered. It would not do for me to try and cope with my shock while helping April cope with her own, far more important version of it. Then I pushed my way into the room.   
  
I could see Perry, curled up on the cot and now sporting a ragged five o'clock shadow, sleeping the sleep of the exhausted. I walked quietly to avoid disturbing him. April shifted; she was aware of my presence. But she'd turned her face toward the wall and did not look up.   
  
I sat on the edge of her bed and put a hand on her shoulder. Then I took a deep breath. This was about to get bad.   
  
I know Raph very well. He'd have treated April like a delicate flower, jumped when she said jump, tried to see to her every whim. He can be a curmudgeon, but he's got a really big heart. I think he's a curmudgeon to protect that heart. It's hard to remember, sometimes, when his temper is the main personality trait I'm mostly exposed to. Confronted with one of his best friends in this broken state, Raph would have been uncertain what to do, exactly. He'd have coddled her depression, and any grumbling would have been of the cajoling variety, not the acidic variety I know so well.   
  
I also know April very well. And she's a sweet person who with a spitfire's heart, and coddling was the absolute opposite of what she needed to get well.   
  
I gave a quick prayer to try to confirm my observations, and felt peace. I knew I was right.   
  
So what I said was not, "Oh I'm so sorry, Raph told me all about it." It was not, "Hey April, how are you feeling?" or, "April won't you try to eat?"   
  
No.   
  
I kept my tone even and measured as I said firmly, "I never took you for a coward, April O'Neil."   
  
I felt her start under my hand, and she turned to face me, eyes blazing. Good. This was a start.   
  
"What are you talking about, you jerk?"   
  
"I'm talking about you acting like your life is over." She tried to shove my hand away. My hand stayed where it was. I wasn't hurting her any, and I wasn't going to let her draw back into herself. This was a fight too, if a very different sort of battle than the ones I'm used to, and I do not back down.   
  
She made another furious shove at my hand and gave up when she couldn't get rid of it.   
  
"I'm talking about you giving up."   
  
"I've lost my legs! I'm going to be useless to you guys, a big burden, just when the world has gone insane." Her lips trembled. She was on the brink of tears.   
  
"You are a Sister of my Clan and you are never useless." I let a little of the frustrated growl I was feeling enter my voice. Poor Raph. First he had to deal with me and then April and now he was going to go deal with Angel. No wonder he was looking like all he wanted to do was climb into bed and sleep for a week.   
  
She stared at me, swallowing, her tears remaining in her eyes and not spilling.   
  
I modified my tone just a little bit. "We'll figure out what to do about all of it, April. And we're sticking together. Now more than ever."   
  
"I keep waiting for it to happen again," April sniffed. "Like I'll wake up and this time it will be you and Don and Raph that will be gone, and maybe the Doctor too, and I'll be all alone with no way to help myself."   
  
"It is not going to happen again," I said, and she stared at the utter certainty in my voice.   
  
"You sound like you know what happened."   
  
"I do," I said. And then, prompted by a warning nudge from the Holy Spirit, I said, "But now is not the time to talk about that. When everyone's a little bit more rested and calm I'll get all of us together and discuss what I know. Right now though, I think you should sit up and eat."   
  
"I need help," April said, sounding almost sullen. "I hate needing help."   
  
Now I got up and stepped back. She looked at the spot on her shoulder where my hand had been, then back at me with sudden shock.   
  
"You do not need help to sit up. You're going to do it yourself."   
  
She opened her mouth to protest and I rolled right over her. "You've got arms, don't you? Use them. You're not helpless. You're not going to _ believe _ you're helpless and you're not going to _ act _ helpless. Are we clear?"   
  
I was relieved to see a hint of a smile touch the bitter curve of her lips. "Oh, hai, Leo-sama."   
  
I let her sarcasm pass. I'm perfectly used to jabs at my leadership. As long as she got moving.   
  
Which she did, scooting backward on her arms and elbows until she was sitting up.   
  
"I'll be right back," I promised her.   
  
I made her a sandwich and brought her a cold Dr. Pepper (the healing drink of champions if Don could be believed), and watched as she devoured them. I relaxed, then. She was a tough lady and I knew that she was out of the woods. It wasn't just me...she had been ready, on her own, for someone to come and kick her out of her self-pity. I'm sure Dr. Perry had probably tried, mind, but April was the sort who wouldn't give much weight to anything a stranger had to say, whether he'd saved her life or not. She probably had just ignored the poor guy.   
  
"I should call into work," April said softly. "Find out what's going on." She sounded ashamed, abashed.   
  
I took her plate and handed her my cell phone. She dialed the number and I stepped out of the room to let her deal with her business in peace. I closed the door behind me and sagged against the doorframe. I took a few deep breaths and tried not to feel like my knees had been knocked out from under me again. Delayed response.   
  
I checked in about six minutes later. April had hung up and was resting the phone on her knees. "I told them I had a private care provider, and what's happened to my legs." She sounded strange. "They told me that our offices here caught fire and burned down, so when my care provider thinks it's reasonable for me to return to work they want me to report to our branch office."   
  
"Which is where?"   
  
"Chicago. It's in Chicago."   
  
"What did you tell them?"   
  
"I told them I understood and that it was time for physical therapy and hung up." April looked up, white faced. "We need for me to have this job, Leo. I have a good savings account but the economy has surely taken a dive. That could run out very fast. But I don't want to leave you guys!"   
  
I nearly smiled. From "I'm so useless" to "you guys can't make it without me" in ten minutes. Not bad, not bad at all. But it might have impeded her progress if I let on about _ those _ thoughts. What I said instead was: "Fine. I'll talk to the rest of the family. Maybe a move is in order."   
  
She stared at me like she thought I'd grown a second head. But necessity was necessity, and we all did need to stick closer together than ever. Furthermore, I was now willing to see God's hand in unexpected news. Before the thought of a move might have put me through the roof, but today? I assumed God had some reason for giving us reason to leave New York behind. For one thing I did know enough to expect a giant global earthquake sometime in the future. Underground homes were not going to be prime pieces of real estate when that happened.   
  
And I remembered that Vernon Billings' church was some suburb of Chicago, and that made me wonder even more. Not that Billings was around anymore, but maybe there would be someone who was familiar with the man and his work.   
  
But it was not time to explain all of this, or any of it at all. Instead I said: "Do you want me to tell Don what's going on with your legs, or do you want to? He will probably be able to fix something up to make you more mobile."   
  
April paled a little bit and asked in a near whisper, "Can you do it?"   
  
I nodded. "Of course."   
  
"Thank you, Leo."   
  
"He'll be in later," I said firmly. She was not going to hide. We did not have time for it. Whatever weirdness was up between those two could not be allowed to get in the way of surviving what was to come.   
  
** Author's Notes: ** Ok, so I know I have been slow lately. Forgive me! I am knee deep in 40 hours a week of work, 1 3 year old, and 7 credits of course work!   
  
Rene: You make me blush! Thanks!   
  
Jo Dawn: *grins* I feel the same way when you update What the Heart Wants!   
  
Ramica: Heh. Yeah. And trust Casey to be cynical about it instead of seeing it as a wonderful triumph of the human spirit.   
  
solidchristian-88: This is me giving you an evil grin.   
  
Tigger56bounce: More of both are on the way.   
  
Orange Turtle: *grins*   
  
Red Turtle: Thanks!   
  
In The Clouds: Heh. Well this story is already halfway to novel length. I'm actually trying to keep pace with certain events in the original book, Left Behind, necessitating some skips. And...heh. Its not easy to write every moment.   
  
Tripmon: Eye of the storm, my friend... 


	30. Firey Sword

30

Don

They were finished.

I held one of them up and pushed the button at the base of the hilt. A thin line of energy crackled along the strip of a highly conductive alloy I'd placed at the edge of the blade. The point where the sharp part should be, to be exact, though on this sword the "sharp part" was the energy. It looked a little like white flames licking the edge of the blade. And they did radiate heat, though it wasn't truly a fire.

"Energy" was not a very precise term for it. But to really explain this design I'd have to take up the rest of the story, and probably bore you to death. So, "energy" will do. Because the true importance of these blades was that they would cut through just about anything, short of diamonds. And if we ever had to cut through diamonds, I'd already designed a mod pack that would attach to the blade and allow him to increase the amount of heat the sword generated, which would about do the trick. Of course, the pack was only safe to use for about five minutes before it would blow up the blade, but I consider that only a small technical flaw.

It wasn't quite the light saber that Raph had teased me about making when we were ten, but it was pretty darn close. I was pretty proud of myself. And, heck, maybe given a few years I could figure out how to imbed that alloy into the hilt, removing the need for the physical blade, so that it was a light saber...

I deactivated the sword when I heard the knock on the door. I was suddenly a little nervous. What if he didn't like them? Leo was pretty traditional, and the sword, well, it had all this great significant symbolism that was pretty much lost on me, but that was pretty important to him. I wasn't sure what he'd think about these firey swords I'd created for him.

"Come in," I called, standing. I'd been holed up in here for too long, I realized. Somewhere in all the work and rest I'd done I had recovered. I felt fully myself, if stiff and sore and in desperate need of a training session to get back into myself.

Leo walked in with absolutely no expression on his face. Right away I knew he was about to tell me something I didn't want to hear. So I plowed over him before he could do it. Maybe it was selfish, but I wanted to give him this present when I was all excited over it, not after I'd been brought down by some new piece of horrible news (or a reprimand). I gathered up the blades, beamed at him, and said, "You won't have to carry those wooden swords around anymore. Check these out!"

He took them, studied them. He tilted his head at the lack of an edge, but found the button quickly enough. To my very great relief, he looked delighted. "Firey swords," he murmured. "Like the angels carry."

I didn't care if he liked them cause of the angels, as long as he liked them. I grinned and explained them to him. He smiled. "This seems like it will be very helpful the next time I'm knee deep in debris."

I nodded, having thought of that. "For all we know 'debris' could be our biggest enemy for a long time."

Leo looked doubtful at that. Then he took a deep breath. I took one of my own. Time to face whatever was coming.

"Thank you, for these," he said solemnly. I handed him sheathes (which I'd also made special, and looked a little cheesy for being a high grade protective plastic, but he turned off the katanas and slid them home without complaint). "I have to talk to you, about April."

I had a sudden jolt of panic. I knew she wasn't dead. I knew that because I'd heard her screaming and throwing a dish at the wall just a few days ago. I'd tried to go in only to have Raph threaten me with his sai. So if Leo wanted to talk to me about April, did that mean he'd figured me out? I didn't want to be figured out. The last thing I wanted becoming family business were my feelings for her. Those impossible feelings for her. Was he about to give me a talking to about being in love?

"Her spinal cord was severed," he said.

Roaring in my ears. I groped for a chair, found one, sat. "That means she can't walk."

"Yes."

"And the Doctor can't fix it."

"No."

I felt like someone had brought a blackjack down on my head. Not in a metaphorical sense, either. Truly, the sensation was physically just about the same. "How is she taking it?" But I knew the answer. I'd heard her throw the dish.

"Better. She's going to need you, though, Don. She wanted me to tell you. She's too ashamed or embarrassed or something to tell you herself." He looked me in the eye and repeated, "She needs you."

Oh. I had been found out anyway. Somehow this wasn't quite as disturbing, maybe because I wasn't being challenged over it like I expected to be.

"Then I'll go to her."

"Good. There's something else. Her job wants her to transfer to Chicago. I'm contemplating a move."

"I'll get boxes"

Leo blinked at me. "Just like that?"

"If Chicago is where April is, that's where I want to be. Raph will be pissed that you talked to me first though, without him."

"That's the way life is. But I'm going to get all of us at the kitchen table over a pizza soon. Dr. Perry to. Can you make April a wheelchair?"

I could do better than that, I thought. My mind started constructing schematics for some sort of Professor X chair. It would be hard to stay sad and angry with something as cool as a Professor X hover chair. Maybe I could mount little guns on the side for her...that would both annoy and please her I thought. "Yeah. I'll just move back into my room. My work shop is in there."

"I think the company will be better for her than worse, so lets do that," Leo said evenly. "I'm going to go wake the good doctor, though, and get him out of there. I want to have a long discussion with him before we all sit down, so I know where his head's at. If he doesn't have anyone else, perhaps he'd like to join the Clan."

I had to laugh. "Clan, versus family...Leo, aren't we a little small to be a Clan? Three people?"

"Four. There's April. Five, I guess, if you want to count Casey."

"i You /i count Casey. That guy is nothing but trouble. He's going to cause us real problems someday, Leo."

"He hasn't yet, not all these years. He's been an ally."

"There are sleeper agents who stay in the country for 35 years before betraying it, too," I said. "They hold barbeques and graduate from high school and are the kind of cool next door neighbors who will watch the kids for you in a pinch. But they get a phone call with the right password, and they go from PTA member to spy just like that."

"You think Casey is some sort of sleeper agent for a foreign government?" Leo chortled.

I picked up a pillow and tossed it at his head. He ducked, of course, and caught it, which he always did, but the point was made in the throwing, not the hitting, anyway. "No. I'm just saying. He's a bundle of dark emotions and jealousy combined with a low level of intelligence. This does not make for a good combo."

"If he's that dumb," Leo said evenly, "then he shouldn't be any threat to you."

"So you're inviting him to the meeting."

"I am inviting him to the meeting."

I shrugged. If Casey wanted to tag along if...when...we went to Chicago, what did I care? April was smart. April could see right through the guy. Just because he had good shoulders and Hollywood hair and that kind of manly Italian smile thing going...April could see right through him. Besides, he probably wouldn't pay as much attention to her now that she couldn't walk...he was shallow that way.

I realized I was being mean and petty and decided to quit thinking about it. "For now, lets just go see about April and Dr. Perry."

Leo nodded, and I put the matter of Casey from my mind. Leo was right. What was the worst he was going to do if he finally snapped? Get drunk and pick a fight? He did that now

**Author's Notes: **

Rene: Heh. I have tried and am trying to branch into the real world. Unfortunately I am not quite there yet. 

Maria: And you!

Ramica: grins I laughed too, when the image popped into my head.

Jo Dawn: Thanks!!

solidchristian-88: Grin Well quite a bit of the adult series is also set in Chicago. I may yet work the kids in though, not sure yet.

Tlingel: blush would you believe that song was totally the inspiration for this fic? Cowabungaluia dude!

Orange Turtle: grins Well slower does make for surer... 

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	31. Exhaustion

31  
  
Raph  
  
Angel, I thought, as I stared down at her, had always reminded me a little bit of myself. It wigged me out a little, watching her caught in her own private hell. I couldn't think of too many things that would have sent me there, therefore, I could not imagine what sent her there.  
  
Yet despite the fact that I was up, moving, doing stuff, I was kind of in my own little private hell too. It was like this band of crap had wrapped itself around my shell and just kept squeezin', tighter and tighter, threatenin' to cut off reason, breath, everything. My anger wasn't even there to save me anymore, it had fled, gone down the drain somewhere where I couldn't get to it.  
  
I paced April's apartment.  
  
April would never walk again.  
  
I couldn't make sense of all of it. What the hell? What the hell was wrong with the whole world? It sucked before everyone disappeared and it sucked now, yet all of us still sort of cling to life. We all want to survive, except for the truly desperate and suicidal, all try to cling on to shit another day. And I guess there's stuff that makes it worth it, but damn.  
  
I wanted to do something, to fight someone, but there was no visible enemy. I'd been thrown out of my element, out of straightforward, butt kicking ninja style action and into something new.  
  
Yeah. I hated it.  
  
I don't know what compelled me to pick up the dusty old Bible.  
  
I certainly had no intentions of reading it. It wasn't going to fix Angel. It wasn't going to change anything. April hadn't even touched it since she moved it into her apartment, if the inch thick coating of dust and the stuck-together-nature of the pages was any indication at all.  
  
Still, I stuck it in my belt.  
  
Then I started packing April a box. Just stuff I thought she might need. I even went in the bathroom and got the girly stuff she might need.  
  
Hey God. You listenin'? Great. What the fuck is up with the little girl in there? Wanna help out?  
  
God did not answer. No booming voice from heaven like in The Ten Commandments. I guess you ain't supposed to swear at him. Me? That was mild for what I was thinking. I was too tired to get pissed, even at God. Angel didn't suddenly spring up, start talkin', tell me what happened to her.  
  
But something else did happen.  
  
The window shattered.  
  
A brick with a note wrapped around it thunked onto the carpet.  
  
I stared at it for a long time.  
  
IF YOU WISH TO KNOW THE FACE OF YOUR ENEMY, MEET ME.  
  
Below that, was an address.  
  
I raced to the window, trying to figure out who had thrown it, where it had come from. Was it for me? Or for Casey? I tossed the brick back out the window. A prank?  
  
I kept the note.  
  
I tucked it right next to the Bible, as a matter of fact.  
  
Then I put on the t.v. and watched it aimlessly. There was some big United Nations meeting coming up that I supposed Leo would want to see, but that wasn't for a few days. They were covering the preparations for it on the news. Me? I turned on some cartoons. I had to wait for Casey to get home before I could act.  
  
I fell asleep there on the couch with the cartoons blaring their way into my fevered dreams. Bright cartoon demons chased me inta corners, and I found I couldn't move my legs to fight them.  
  
There's a lot of different ways to go to hell.

**Author's Notes: **Usually I try to thank each reviewer, but I have to admit tonight I'm writing on a shoe string's worth of attention span and energy. So this is just a blanket thanks to all reviewers for their patience, and the kindness of those who e-mailed and asked what is up. I won't go into details, but I've been going through a trying time. Thankfully, the good Lord has once again made it clear that He comes through in all times and knows all of our needs. I was just reading Matthew 6 this morning, trying to follow its advice and believe its promises (with varying degrees of success and failure) when I got a very important phone call that solved a major problem in the nick of time. The Lord does listen! Hopefully I'll be writing more. This chapter is not my best effort but I'm hoping that it will whet the pump again now that my life has settled down. May the peace of God which surpasses all understanding be with you.


	32. The New Job

32

Casey

My suit was a little tight. Or maybe it just felt that way. I gotta say, I don't wear 'em very often, and every time I do I feel really really strange.

The office was all done in blues and whites, with one of those fakey plants right at the entrance. I'd filled out an application. I'd left out a resume, I hadn't thought about one, though every other monkey suit in the place had one. My resume shows more gaps than it does competence, so I guess I probably did okay.

I expected to fill out the app and be sent on my way, but they told me to wait. So I did, flippin' through some magazine on business, like I knew anything about it. What a dumb thing to flip through, me goin' for bein' a bodyguard and all.

Finally I was called back to an office. It was all shiny oak and view: big picture window that looked out on the harbor. On his desk was some sort of statue of a phoenix. It looked like it was made of solid ruby.

The man inhabiting the office stood and offered me a brilliant smile. He had blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, a real charming set of features. "Greetings," he said. "I am Nicolae Carpathia."

He spoke without a hint of accent. I was stunned – this was the Romanian President himself! I shook his hand, feelin' way out of my league already. I expected some human resources goon. He hadn't introduced himself by titles either.

"Please, sit down," he said. "I prefer to interview each of the men seeking to be my bodyguard myself. After all, I am going to trust the successful applicant with my life, am I not?"

"Er." Sometimes I hate how dumb I can sound to people. But Carpathia didn't seem to mind. He read over my application for a moment.

"We've done an extensive background check on you, Mr. Jones," he said. "I understand there's a young, catatonic girl in your care. Angel Wood?"

I blinked. How could any background check have possibly turned that up? I expected him to bring up my time in jail from when I smashed a rapist's car in. The police, they didn't much care that the car had belonged to a rapist, vandalism was vandalism in their eyes. That's what I think is wrong with our justice system sometimes, all rules, no heart. I bet they really wanted to smash up the guy's car too.

"Er. Yeah. Yeah, Angel's her name."

He kept a warm, pleasant smile trained on me the whole time. "I expect you're wanting to see her cared for. "

This was like no interview I'd ever been to. "That's right, sir."

"Please, call me Nicolae."

"That's right. Um. Nicolae." See? King of Articulation, right here.

"We'll have to see to it that she gets into a good facility, to take care of her." Nicolae stood up, and began pacing the room. "You see, Mr. Jones, I believe that all people are important, worthy of respect. The entire world has gone down into flames. Yet like this phoenix – " He picked up the statue, turned it around so it reflected the light, "we will rise above this challenge and build something great, a community that honors all people, all over the world. Is that something you'd like to be part of, Mr. Jones?"

I was a little weirded out by him referring to millions of people disappearing as some sort of 'challenge', like it was some weird management exercise like the corporate bozos do. But not enough to forget he'd just offered to put Angel in a good facility. "Am I understandin' that you're offering me a salary and the chance to put Angel somewhere good? On your dime?"

He beamed at me. "Yes. Of course I'd require absolute loyalty, absolute secrecy. Do you think you can manage those things, Mr. Jones?"

Hmm, lemme think.

"Yes, Nicolae, I sure do."

"Good. You are hired."

Just like that. There was an uneasy feeling at the base of my spine, but I told it to shove itself. In five minutes – well, four hours and five minutes if you count the wait – I'd just solved a whole bunch of problems. And I liked Nicolae. He seemed a really good guy. Not like a politician at all. Not stuck on himself. "So I guess you've got some paperwork?"

He passed a thick contract my way, along with tax forms. Most of it was already filled out, awaiting only my signature. "I took the liberty," he said, "of having everything put into place for us."

The chill washed over me again, like I was getting the flu. I hesitated, then grabbed up a pen. The pen was blue, and had a gold logo on it reading 'GC'. I decided he must have gotten it at some Romanian store and started signing all the paperwork. My hand ached by the time I was done, and I looked up to find Nicolae had set a cold beer in front of me, my favorite brand in fact, that he seemed to have gotten from the little executive fridge at the corner of the room.

"You'll need tuxedos," he said, as I thanked him and opened the beer. "I took the liberty of having some of those made up for you too. Now. I will be addressing the UN in a few days and I'm in a position to make sure that anyone you'd like to invite can have tickets. Can you think of anyone?"

At first I couldn't. Then, almost guiltily, I thought of April. "Yeah, yeah, just one though."

He laid a pass in front of me. "Then this is a gift. And we've gone to pick Angel up. She'll be staying at Martyr's General Hospital. I – "

"Took the liberty?" I ventured.

Nicolae smiled.

**Author's Notes:** And now she's back! From outer space! She's writing on her fic with a smile upon her face…so yeah. Life has calmed down! Expect to see a lot more of me. Nicolae Carpathia is property of LaHaye and Jenkins. Casey Jones is property of whomever owns TMNT now. Grand how that works! I'm just a person borrowing them. God bless!

Reinbeauchaser: Heh, most of my "rants" are set friends only, if you have a Livejournal I'll add you.

Crash77A: Never fear. I do intend some Ninja Action.

Orange Turtle: Well Raph is the only character that really curses, with a light peppering from Leo or Casey. You'll not hear Don or April curse. My policy on writing is to have the characters say or do exactly what they'd say or do, and despite the fact that the cartoon edits Raph, my internal Raph in my head does not edit himself very much.

Tigger56Bounce: Thanks for the vote of confidence! I felt like I was scraping rust off my brain.

Lady-Christian-Knight-88: Let me just say I love your username.

Jo Dawn: High fives, girl! How you been??


	33. Perry Speaks

33

Leo

A few hours later, Dr. Perry emerged and stumbled in the general direction of the showers. I knew our talk was going to have to happen soon. I felt electrified, energized. I thumbed over the Bible passages I'd marked out to try to explain what I, myself, had come to understand was the truth about God and His plan for man. Behind all of that was the wonder about what Dr. Perry would do. Half of me wanted him to stay with us, half of me thought it would be better if he didn't. I don't, as a rule, like mysterious figures, and Dr. Perry was very mysterious indeed.

Finally I quit fretting and did something useful. I will never be the cook Mike was, but I can certainly microwave canned soup, and I decided that Dr. Perry would be ready to really sit down and have a good meal by now. I had the table set, bowls of steaming stew out, and glasses of milk poured by the time he came out, sort of distastefully shrugging into his still dirty shirt. I put out bread and butter as well.

"Come on and eat," I advised him, when he hesitated at the kitchen door.

He fell on the food with every evidence of gratitude, and I decided to let him have at for awhile before starting in on him. When he started slowing down at last, I said, "I want to thank you for everything you've done for April. I know Raph wasn't exactly gentle about recruiting you."

"It was my choice to come, whatever Raphael thinks," Dr. Perry replied. It was an interesting statement to make. "She is out of the woods now. There's a regimen I'm going to set out for you boys to keep her on, but I've done all I can for her. There are people topside who are still going to require my help. But there's something more important I want to talk to you about, Leonardo."

I tilted my head. "What's that, Doctor?"

"A realization I've come to. The most important event in history has just occurred. We've been left behind in the Rapture."

Having him tell me exactly what I was going to try to tell him left me speechless. I spilled my milk, and ended up mopping it up instead of replying. He took this as invitation to go on.

"I used to believe such things were a scientific impossibility," he admitted. "Though I come from a good Baptist family, down in Alabama. I've heard this stuff all my young life, but I rejected it. Jesus is coming! That's what my mother used to tell me. She told me all about God's plan for salvation, how all humans are sinful, all fall short of God's glory, but how Jesus came to be the perfect sacrifice, so that all those who have faith in Him and receive Him can come to a relationship with God and have eternal life. I told her then what I believed all my adult life, that I'd rather fight against death than worry about some unseen eternal life."

I found myself caught up in his story, curious to hear it, so I didn't interrupt him.

"I went north when I became a doctor to try to immerse myself in what I saw as a more rational culture. I also got involved in a friend's parapsychology research, mostly with the intent of debunking it, though I found myself drawn to circumstances where I was needed, much as you've already seen. I finally allowed there had to be a tiny bit to what he was saying, and decided I had ESP, decided to trust that. It's why I was fully ready when I came on you that day. But part of me knew it was never ESP. My mother was praying for me, my family, everyone, and God was showing me his sovereign will, his subtle hand in action. I wanted to save lives, and He wanted lives saved, so he made sure I was where I was supposed to be. Oh, we know from that very incident that humans can manifest such powers, but I knew it wasn't true in my case, deep from the bottom of my heart."

He paused, spooned some soup up, took a few bites. He was gradually looking better. That contrast made me realize how awful he had looked before. "Right before everyone disappeared, I just…stopped. It was like the whole world was holding its breath, just for a moment. I heard…it was like a still, small voice in my heart, asking if I wanted to talk about God yet. I told that voice: I've got rounds to make. Then, the patient right in front of me disappeared, and I knew exactly what had happened. And found I couldn't even breathe. I knew the rapture when I saw it, and knew I'd even been given one last chance to try to make it, to give my life, even the next sixty seconds of it, over to God before the horrors that are going to come. Antichrist, the Beast, all of them are on their way. I never studied well enough to be comfortable telling you everything to expect, but there is going to be a massive global change in government and religion, you're going to see one world leader – the Antichrist – and then you're going to say massive persecution of all the new Christians, people like me who knew what happened or figured it out, and gave their life to God then and there. It's not too late, for me, for you or your brothers either. I doubt you've had much religious training down here, but you need to learn who Jesus is and invite him into your life. The worst is yet to come. God is about to try to get everybody's attention. Most people are going to give God the finger. Don't be one of them."

I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. "Thank you for telling me all that. So you've done it? Given your life to Christ?"

"Oh yes."

"I'm happy to say I have too, before you even began this conversation. In fact I was going to share Christ with you when you started."

Dr. Perry let out a laugh, the first laugh I'd heard him utter.

"Dr. Perry – "

"Call me Michael."

I had to swallow a lump in my throat. Michael Perry? Was it coincidence that the doctor that we'd been sent had a name so similar to Mikey's? Of course it wasn't. I no longer believed in coincidence.

"Michael, then. I didn't really understand anything about what's supposed to happen now. Some of what you've mentioned is really new."

"I'm not really qualified to tell you more, but soon you should seek out someone who is." Perry scrubbed his stubble with a dry hand. "That's what I'm going to do. But God is telling me its time to return to the surface. I'm going to give you my cell number so we can keep in touch, as all believers will need to, but my place isn't down here with you guys. There are still lives – and souls – to save, and I believe I can do that best from the hospital."

"I understand. We may be going to Chicago soon."

Dr. Perry withdrew a business card from his wallet and passed it over. I tucked it into my belt after programming his number into my phone. "We'll take the van. It's still pretty dangerous up there. I'll get you home." I didn't want to leave him any room to argue.

**Author's Notes**: I actually have the next several chapters (gasp) outlined, so you might expect more to come a bit faster. No promises though! I had to start and stop this chapter twice to get going on it. It took me awhile to decide what to do with a minor, original character like Dr. Perry. He'll probably come in and out of the story, but there's just no room for him as a permanent, continuing figure I don't think. I struggled with that though as I rather do like him!

Reinbeauchaser, Ramica, Maria, Tigger56Bounce: Thanks for continuing to stay with me!


	34. Strange Days

34

Raphael

I made the break in the window even bigger! And I liked doing it. See, I threw a guy through it.

Hey, what the hell else was I supposed to do when a bunch of suits show up to take Angel out of April's apartment, huh? They said they were from the Romanian government, they flashed badges, I still don't get it and I don't care!

One of them drew a gun on me and it was such a relief to be fighting all I could do was laugh. My foot hit his wrist and sent the gun spinning, and then I drove my fists, one after the other, into his gut. I never even drew my sai. It just never occurred to me. All of my frustration and rage was coming out. It had targets and some good excuses. I was making them bleed and it was out-freakin'-standing.

Another was shouting at me, pulling some sort of badge. I grabbed his throat and started squeezing. "Haven't you got the message yet? You're not taking the girl so get out." I tossed him back into the hall.

One of them was on a cell phone. Oh good. Back up was coming. More people to rip into.

It didn't take long, but the back up wasn't who I expected at all. It was Casey Freaking Jones in a Freaking suit followed by some blonde guy who looked like everybody's best buddy. Because it was Casey, I settled into a defensive stance. Casey in a suit riding up in a limo. Now I'd seen it all.

"Raph! What the hell are you doing?" Casey's first words to me.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought ya wanted me to _protect _Angel. Did I miss the memo where I'm supposed ta let a buncha freaks in monkey suits take off with her?"

Now the blonde guy spoke up. "What an unusual creature!"

I slammed him into the wall. "Who you callin' a creature, pal?"

He looked vaguely surprised, as if it had never occurred ta him in his life that someone might slam his rich ass into a wall. Yeaaah.

"Raph," Casey said slowly, "This is Nicolae Carpathia. He's the president of Romania."

"And I'm the Queen of France. You expect me to believe the Romanian president is sitting here, with _you_, in April's apartment, and he wants his guys to take off with Angel."

"You are an intriguing man," Carpathia said. And now I was upgraded to man. Ha. Whatever. "I assure you I mean your friend no harm. Casey has entered my employ as a bodyguard. I promised him that I would see Angel brought to a good facility where she can be properly cared for. You gave my men quite a scare, but I can see you were only trying to protect your friend."

I let him go. He didn't seem to be trying to pull one over on me. There was something about him I liked, too. And it made sense. "What did you hire this nutjob for?" I stuck my thumb out in Casey's direction, ignoring his, "Hey!"

Carpathia smiled at me. "I felt he'd be the best for the job. Is that not why anyone hires anyone?"

"And now you're just going to what, pay for Angel's medical care?"

"That is what I am going to do, yes."

"Back off Raph," Casey said. Oh, he was getting mad. You could tell from the tone. "Angel's my problem anyway. Thanks for watchin' her but get out of the way."

Not that my being in the way was stopping anything. I looked over my shoulder and realized that while I'd been assaulting a head of state too of his goons had come in to take the girl. But by that point I was a little calmer. "Fine, whatever," I said, still more than irritated by Casey's tone. "Nice to meet ya, Mr. Carpathia."

"Wait, I would like to learn more about you."

The Romanian President wanted to learn more about me. What a weird day. "Got some business to follow up on." Like the person who threw that brick. "Sorry, Mr. President." I flipped out of the broken window, landed on my feet, and took off down the street, disappearing into the shadows as quickly as I could. A little action had been all it had taken to clear my head, even if it had been the weirdest day I'd ever seen.

A second fight would do the trick nicely, then I could go home and deal. I ran faster. I figured it was a trap, but that just meant the fight would be that much harder.

Cool by me.

**Author's Notes:**

So! I'm back! Thanks to everyone who emailed me asking where the heck I was, the new string of reviewers – and my pastor, who in the middle of his sermon last night revealed he had once owned three turtles and let a fourth go that his wife wouldn't let him adopt. He claimed they were named after Renaissance painters, but I couldn't help but start laughing when he started explaining about "Mike – for Michaelangelo, and Ralph – for Raphael, and Leo – for Leonardo. We didn't get to keep Don, my wife decided Donatello needed his solitude more than I needed another turtle." I decided if my pastor had played host to the TMNT then I had better get back and tell this story cause God was trying to tell me something by having the pastor mention it.


	35. Everyone Needs Lasers!

35

Don

I wasn't really sure what I was going to say when I got into April's room. I hovered outside of the door for about ten minutes before I decided I was acting kind of stupid. I finally just pushed my way in there.

She was sitting up and eating. That seemed a good sign. She was beautiful. All of that inner fire was evident, even if she seemed very small in that bed. Her hair was all messed up, but that just showed off her face to good advantage. I don't know what anyone else would have seen at that moment. I know what I saw.

I wanted to say, "I love you." I swallowed it down. She had enough to deal with. Instead I sat down on her bed and bounced up and down on it a few times. "So I have important design related questions for you," I said. I sounded like some ten year old kid trying to make a birdhouse for Mom, but I plunged ahead. "Do you want a Professor X chair?"

April blinked at me.

And then she blinked at me again.

And then she smirked.

Then she thwapped me across the back of the shell. Which of course didn't hurt a bit. It was just a gesture anyway. "You know, from anyone else you'd sound almost insulting."

"But I'm not anyone else, I'm Donnie."

April grinned at me. "What do you know, you have a point."

"So anyway, seriously. I can mount laser cannons on it."

"Laser cannons?"

"Come on, April. Everyone needs laser cannons."

She laughed, and that was good to see. Things were a mess right now and I guess inside I was as raw and torn up as anyone. But in the absence of Mike, someone had to be a big goofball and get everyone laughing again before the tension and sadness brought them – us -- down into inaction. That's what he was best at, but I guess some of it rubbed off on me as well.

Besides, I was serious about the lasers.

"Don?" April asked tentatively. "Are we going to make it, do you think? I mean I've got – maybe – Chicago – and everything's gone crazy."

"Leo told me all about Chicago. I'm okay with Chicago." I did my best Tommy Lee Jones from the Fugitive: "I wanna hear the sound – of an Elevated train!"

She half grinned at me again. It would have to do.

"We're going to be fine," I said. "I don't know what happened to Mikey and Splinter, and I don't know if it's going to happen again. But I do know the same thing is true that's always been true. As long as we're together and dealing with it, we can overcome anything." I put my arm around her shoulder, trying not to feel too big of a heel. Was I offering comfort or just using this excuse to hug her? Even I didn't know. I rested my mouth on top of her head, not quite kissing it. I definitely did not know. Did it matter?

Maybe it didn't. Maybe it didn't matter at all.

**Author's Notes: ** No. No, I have not forgotten. I haven't lost my thread on the story and I'm going to finish it. I'm just a single Mom, working a full time job, and I also have 18 credits of college going on right now. But I decided tonight was breathing room night, and to put up at least one more chapter.


	36. How Fighting Raphael Works

36

Leo

I got Doc Perry back to the surface safe and sound right around the time that Raphael got back. He walked right past me so that he could fall face first on the couch. But then he got right back up again.

"Maybe you should just go ahead and take that rest?" I knew the suggestion wouldn't go over well. I don't even know why I bothered giving it, really. If Raphael had decided to get up, Raphael was going to get right back up.

"I got somethin' to do."

"What?"

Raphael scowled at me. I met his scowl evenly and prayed for patience. I tried very hard to remind myself that he was exhausted. That he'd been working hard. That this was just the way he was and stress was not likely to bring us closer together. That unless I took responsibility, stress was going to drive us further apart.

Silence.

Then he thrust a note at me.

IF YOU WISH TO KNOW THE FACE OF YOUR ENEMY, MEET ME.

"This address is down by the docks," I observed.

"Yeah."

"How'd you get this note?"

"Brick through Casey's window. Yes, I realize it's probably a trap."

I winced. I'd gotten so predictable, so repetitive over the years that he was now anticipating me, putting a new spin on old arguments. Well two could put a new spin on things.

"How about I go with you? Donnie is with April, Perry has gone home, I'm sort of at loose ends. Besides, I've got something I really need to discuss with you."

Another scowl, another long bout of silence. Maybe he was trying harder than I thought he was to get along with me, because there have been times when I've felt Raphael argued the opposite of whatever I stated just to argue it. Instead he just said, "Fine."

I stopped myself before I gave voice to my incredulity and repeated his words. No, far better just to send a prayer of thanks to God. Raphael gazed downward at my belt for a minute and grunted. "Nice swords. Come on."

It was getting on towards dusk. A light rain was starting to fall, and the winds were chilled. They brought with them the smell of metal and ash. So many cars had crashed in the streets that there were still little fragments blowing in the wind. More than one building had burnt down thanks to unattended meals and candles. For some reason this reminded me so strongly of Mike and Splinter's absences that my throat closed up. I knew they were in a better place. I knew that I'd be going there. I was distressed to learn this did not make it any easier. We climbed over rubble in silence.

"What did you wanna talk to me about?"

I took a deep breath. Things had been going so well, and now I was about to drop the big bomb on Raphael. "Raphael, April's company wants her to move to Chicago. She wants us to come with her. I'm thinking it might be a good idea."

Another one of those dark scowls. "I already know what Donnie thinks, he'd follow her to – to – to freaking Singapore if she wanted."

I couldn't argue that point, and it also got me neatly around the issue of having to get into the argument of having talked to Donnie about it before talking to Raph. It was only that Donnie had been there and Raph hadn't been anyway. That didn't always matter in dealing with my brother though.

"I don't like it."

What a surprise. God nudged me though. _Just keep your mouth shut for a change, Leo._ I realized right then that my impulse was always to just start talking and defending whatever my point of view was. Maybe Raphael just needed time to think and to adjust to ideas, to work them through and see the sense of them for himself. Maybe he didn't like being talked into things.

"On the other hand, we really kinda rely on her support, don't we. I hate that, having to rely on her. We ought to be protecting her anyway, not the other way around."

It was a very tentative phrase that I offered. "Families I guess just take care of each other, and eventually stop worrying about whose doing what."

I got a grunt from him for that one. I took it as agreement. We'd reached a somewhat clearer group of streets, allowing us to make better progress as we slipped on through the shadows.

"Alright fine. Unless we find some really good reason not to at this address, we'll start packing in the morning after I get some sleep."

Just like that?

Just like that he decides we're going to start packing? I couldn't have been more stunned if you'd hit me on the back of the head with a really thick board. That had to have been the most painless argument – heck, the most painless _conversation_ – I have ever had with Raphael.

"Okay," I said, my voice sounding a little funny and stunned even to my own ears.

Raphael looked back at me through one eye – and then just smirked.

I sort of half grinned back at him.

And then we'd reached the address. The street was deserted. Golden lamplight pooled down to illuminate water sliding through the gutters along the wet streets. And then we heard, "Ahh, two ears rather than one. Well good. This makes my task easier."

We looked up. Standing on the ledge of one of the buildings above us was Oroku Saki.


	37. What He Had To Say

37

Raph

Oh. Now it was on.

I didn't wait around to find out what he wanted. What would the point of that had been? The face of our enemy? I'll say he was the face of our enemy. I leapt up, grabbing the fire escape, and flipped myself up directly in front of Saki. Behind me, Leo was doing the same thing.

Neither of us spoke. Both of us drew our weapons.

Saki's face was uncovered. He smirked at us and slid into a fighting stance. "Such simple minded creatures. I might have known we couldn't talk like reasonable individuals."

I spared about five whole seconds to the thought that he wasn't drawing a weapon, and attacked. My sai stabbed forward, and he blocked me, catching the sai on the sharp tines of his gauntlet. My reverse stab was high, and he caught that as well. I heard Leonardo make a sound of frustration in his throat as we grappled, Saki and I together, unable to offer Leonardo a clear slash as we struggled back and forth.

"I want to talk to you about the disappearances, turtle," Saki growled.

I kicked him, hard in the gut, and broke free as he stumbled back. Leonardo was there in an instant, flipping over my head to offer a downward slash from his katana. Energy crackled sharply along the blades. He followed up with a side slash. Saki dove and rolled, coming to his feet at our sides. A stalemate. I expected his cronies any minute. Any minute, we were gonna be up here, we were gonna be surrounded, and we were gonna be toast.

They never came.

We circled him, and he circled us. "You will recall, turtles, that I am from another planet."

"I didn't come here for a trip down memory lane," I snarled. "I came here for a fight." I flew at him with a combination of kicks. He jarred me to the teeth as he blocked each one. Thin lines of blood ran out of my legs from where the spikes on his gauntlet had nailed me, but he was blocking flat handed, knocking my kicks away without them wherever possible. The back of my neck began to itch. This behavior wasn't right. It wasn't right at all.

"What do you have to say, Saki?" Leonardo held up a hand for me to quit fighting.

Like.

Shell.

With a roar I charged him sideways, aiming to knock him down in a bull rush. I did, but then I was soaring over his head, courtesy of his feet. Leonardo sheathed his swords. Whatever. Who needed him, anyway? I smacked the service shed on the building hard and thought maybe I might have, but then I was at it again. I caught some of Saki's clothing in my sai and ripped backward, leaving it in shreds. The problem was, of course, most of his body was like clothes. Just a suit for the little creature inside, a thing that looked a little like a floating brain. The problem is I'd have to rip through that suit to ever get to **him.** Once, Leo had cut off his head. We'd believed him to be dead on that day. That wasn't a mistake I intended to make today.

Sadly, I never got the chance. Just as I executed one of my most vicious attacks, Saki moved in. He caught my arm and twisted me around, slamming me down to the gritty rooftop. I was pinned, and my arm was screaming in pain. "I said," Saki said, "That I am here to talk."

"Then talk," Leo said.

"Leo!" I shouted. "You traitor! Do something about this!"

"I am not a traitor," Leo said, in a calm, hard voice. "But I want to hear what he's got to say. If he tries to hurt you seriously I will stop him." There was an emphasis on "will" that both Saki and I heard. "But if he's just going to sit on you while he talks, I see no need to intervene. If he speaks fast enough." Leo's eyes narrowed into slits, but he fell silent.

"Then hear this," Saki said, so very softly. "You know that I and those you have befriended are refugees from our home planet. What you do not know is what happened. One day, turtles, millions of our kind disappeared from the whole world. Sound familiar?"

It did sound familiar. "He's lying, Leo, make him let me up!"

Saki went on, implacable, just as if I hadn't spoken. "We had prophecies of the Lord of Lords, the King of Kings, coming after just such a disappearance. Myself, the others, none of us wanted to wait around for it. Who would? Judgment day? Bad if you're not absolutely sure of where you stand. Worse if you **are** absolutely sure. So we decided to run. To run away from God. And we came here. And now it seems the time has come to this planet. Its this planet's time, and God is coming. Do you know what I have done, turtles?"

"Built yourself a new ship so you can run away again?" I asked. My own voice sounded strained. But I hoped it sounded as hopeful as I felt.

"No." Saki said softly. "I have...resigned myself. I have made my peace with God. I have learned your name for the Messiah and prayed to both him and the name of the Messiah we were taught. I have asked forgiveness." He let me up. "There is a dark force that is your enemy. You call him Satan. We called him Shailal. They are the same. I have researched it, and they are the same. That is what you must watch out for."

I rolled to my back and stared at him. I wanted to be sick. Even Saki was spouting Mikey's rhetoric. Well, why not? The whole world had gone crazy, and there had to be something to hold on to. Maybe even for Saki. Me, getting on a ship and getting the hell out of there was sounding like a great idea. Maybe Don could make one. And if disappearances happened on our new planet, well, then maybe we could get on board with the party line. Only -- what if there weren't any more worlds to run to? What if all this was serious and we died in space? What if --

I sprung up, disgusted with myself for giving any of this seconds more thought than I had to.

"Thank you for telling us, Brother," Leonardo said solemnly.

I yelled in frustration and grabbed Leo by the arm. "Great. We've established you're both crazy and we've wasted our time." My wounds hurt. **All** of my wounds hurt. All I wanted was to go home and find a nice cozy couch to sleep on. I didn't want to think about any of this, any more.

We left Saki shouting, "Glory to God in the highest!" from his rooftop. The world really was coming apart. Our greatest enemy, rich, powerful, deadly and evil, had become some sort of curbside prophet.


	38. The UN Conference

38

April

The UN summit was the first time I'd gotten dressed up to go anywhere since losing my legs. Don had finished my "Professor X" chair as he called it, and I had to admit it was one of the best things he'd ever made. It really did float, though it was black, not yellow. The laser cannons he'd mounted to the side were easy to target and use. He'd put in a cell phone, a GPS system, and an internet link. It could easily be hooked up to even more equipment to turn me into a one woman command center. No, I no longer felt helpless.

I'd figured out the basics of how to get dressed, so I went for the little black dress and pearls. Not that anyone could see whether it was a dress or not. I clipped on my guest badge and looked up. Casey, in a tuxedo of all things, was standing in the doorway, smiling at me. He held out a dozen roses. "They aren't as beautiful as you, doll," he said, in his very typical devil-may-care sort of way, "But they're yours."

I smiled up at him, feeling vaguely guilty. I knew he was interested. I knew he was. My heart was in another direction and I couldn't even justify it. My mind was a wash of conflict. I had feelings for someone who was out of my age bracket. Out of my species bracket. Casey was in both of those brackets. I told myself it had more to do with the fact that he wasn't even my intellectual equal, and then I told myself to stop thinking about it. I was not some sort of woman who needed a man to feel complete. Maybe I'd just stay single. Staying single had a nice appeal.

I'd never been to any sort of political gathering. I found myself just people watching. I saw people I'd only seen on t.v. Casey soon had to go to trail his boss, so I tried to make polite conversation with aids. I was growing bored and I was growing restless. Why had I come out?

"That is most remarkable!" The voice at my elbow was open and happy, full of life and curiosity. I turned the chair a little, and found myself face to face with the famous Chaim Rosenzweig.

"Thank you! A very good friend of mine made this for me when I lost the use of my legs. It happened during the disappearances," I explained.

I liked Chaim immediately, all the more so for his sudden beam. "I should very much like to meet your friend someday. An inventor like myself. I'm Chaim Rosenzweig."

I decided not to giggle that he thought he needed to introduce himself, and offered my hand. "I am April O'Neal. And he's something of a recluse, I'm afraid."

"Ahh, a man deep in his work. A man after my own heart. Did he send you with those lovely roses?"

"No, that was my friend Casey. He's -- one of Mr. Carpathia's bodyguards."

Chaim beamed even more, if that was possible. "Carpathia. Yes, Carpathia. He's so impressive. I love that young man. He's going to make history. Perhaps even tonight! And you and I," he paused, getting two fruit drinks off a tray and handing one to me, "You and I will be here to see it!" He clinked his glass to mine and we both drank, both grinning.

We did not have long to wait. I spotted Casey first, but he was part of Carpathia's entourage. They entered in a rather unobtrusive manner. Chaim made some apologies and went to slip into the entourage. I really didn't mind. I was flattered that he'd taken even a few minutes to speak to me.

_Secretary-General Mwangati Ngumo of Botswana announced that the assembly was privileged to hear briefly from the new president of the nation of Romania and that the formal introduction of their guest would be made by the honorable Dr. Chaim Rosenzweig, with whom they were all familiar._

_Rosenzweig hurried to the podium with a vigor that belied his age, and he initially received a more enthusiastic response than did Carpathia. The popular Israeli statesman and scholar said simply that it gave him great pleasure to introduce "to this worthy and august body a young man I respect and admire as much as anyone I've ever met. Please welcome His Honor, President Nicolae Carpathia of Romania."_

I was as caught up in the flood as anyone as cheers broke out over the assembly. Carpathia did not pull out any notes or any speech at all.

_He spoke earnestly, with passion, with a frequent smile, and with occasional, appropriate humor. He mentioned respectfully that he was aware that it had not been a full week yet since the disappearance of millions all over the world, including many who would have been "in this very room." Carpathia spoke primarily in perfect English with only a hint of Romanian accent. He used no contractions and enunciated every syllable of every word. He employed all nine languages with which he was fluent, each time translating himself into English._

_Carpathia began by announcing that he was humbled and moved to visit "for the first time this historic site, where nation after nation has set its sights. One by one they have come from all over the globe on pilgrimages as sacred as any to the Holy Lands, exposing their faces to the heat of the rising sun. Here they have taken their stand for peace in a once-and-for all, rock-solid commitment to putting behind them the insanity of war and bloodshed. These nations, great and small, have had their fill of the death and maiming of their most promising citizens in the prime of their youth._

_"Our forebears were thinking globally long before I was born," Carpathia said. "In 1944, the year the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank were established, this great host nation, the United States of America, along with the British Commonwealth and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, met at the famous Dumbarton Oaks Conference to propose the birth of this body."_

_Displaying his grasp of history and his photographic memory of dates and places, Carpathia intoned, "From its official birth on October 24, 1945, and that first meeting of your General Assembly in London, January 10, 1946, to this day, tribes and nations have come together to pledge their whole hearted commitment to peace, brotherhood, and the global community."_

I paused and frowned at that one. The "global community" sounded a little like a buzz word to me, like some sort of international, political psychobabble. For all his charisma I couldn't help but think that he was just another politician. I leaned forward and began looking up some of the dates that he'd named on my internet uplink. All of them were accurate. His speech continued, rolling and washing over my head.

_He began in almost a whisper, "From lands distant and near they have come: from Afghanistan, Albania, Algeria..." He continued, his voice rising and falling dramatically with careful pronunciation of the name of each member country of the United Nations. He listed them all, country after country._

_With each name, someone from that country rose in dignity and stood erect, as if voting anew for peace among nations. Carpathia smiled and nodded at each as they rose, and nearly every country was represented. Soon, the representatives began applauding as each new country was called forth._

Even my cynicism was melting away. Tears stung my eyes. He was really heartfelt up there. Even with his buzzwords, I could feel it, his love and admiration filling the room, uplifting us all. If I could have stood, I would have. I felt myself hanging on each name, waiting for the United States of America to be called forth.

_Carpathia's voice grew more emotional and powerful with each new country name._

_"Somalia! South Africa! Spain! Sri Lanka! Sudan! Suriname! Swaziland! Sweden! Syria!"_

_More than five minutes into the recitation, Carpathia had not missed a beat. He had never once hesitated, stammered, or mispronounced a syllable. "Uganda! Ukraine! The United Arab Emirates! The United Kingdom! The United States of America!"_

I couldn't leap to my feet, but I cheered until I thought my throat was going to go hoarse. I dug a lighter out of my purse and put it up as though we were at a rock concert! In retrospect that was probably not the most appropriate gesture I could have made, but I made it, fierce pride welling up in me.

_And there was more, as the Nicolae Carpathia juggernaut sailed on. Over the next half hour he displayed such an intimate knowledge of the United Nations that it was as if he had invented and developed the organization himself. For someone who had never set foot on American soil, let alone visited the United Nations, he displayed amazing understanding of its inner workings._

_During his speech he casually worked in the name of every secretary-general from Trygve Lie of Norway to Ngumo and mentioned their terms of office not just by year but also by specific day and date of their installation and conclusion. He displayed awareness and understanding of each of the six principal organs of the U.N.; their functions, their current members, and their particular challenges._

_Then he swept through the eighteen U.N. agencies, mentioning every one, its current director, and its headquarters city. This was an amazing display, and suddenly it was no wonder this man had risen so quickly in his own nation, no wonder the previous leader had stepped aside. _

I couldn't think of anyone better to lead us through the new and scary future that awaited us. I couldn't think of anyone I wanted to see work with the President more. I wished I could shake his hand, hug him, kiss him, hold him on my own shoulders and fly around with him. I felt hope, looking at him. Hope for the future and the world, hope that washed away some of my grief, some of my pain.

I was very glad that I had come.

**Author's Note:** So here I come back to this project again! I know its taking forever, but I'm still committed to finishing. Everything in italics is NOT my work. Everything in italics is pretty much verbatum from Left Behind itself. I'm trying to intersect the histories of the turtles into this world very smoothly, which means whenever one of the characters would or could be present to witness a pivotal event from the book, I need to work that in. The U.N. speech wouldn't have changed much, no matter who saw it, so I took out those pieces whole cloth. Hopefully LeHaye and Jenkins will forgive me and take their credit rightly.


	39. Staying on Track

39

Don

It's still amazing to me how we eventually got used to the idea -- the idea that millions had disappeared and our world had changed, forever and ever. I'd been listening to a radio interview of Nicolae Carpathia, a broadcast of one of Buck Cameron's. Listening, as I packed. April was due in Chicago in less than a week.

None of the "scientific" sounding theories that were being put forward made any sense to me. The fact was nobody knew what had happened, and it bothered me how eagerly people latched onto theories about nuclear warheads or radio waves or the secret HARP project. It might have been comforting to think there really was a scientific explanation, but there wasn't. Not even an alien invasion, because I'd been over starlogs dozens of times, and there had not been any craft in the sky. Perhaps having been off planet I know how to look for that better than most, but NASA surely knew, and NASA was not stepping up to tell everyone how silly they were being.

April knew better, too, and I couldn't help but be irritated with her. She'd taken to calling this Carpathia guy "St. Nick." What I saw, above all, was a guy trying to exploit the pain and confusion of an awful lot of people. I wasn't ready to believe Leo's Rapture theory, but I wasn't going to let this Carpathia guy swindle me either. Not that it really mattered. We had a life to get on with, to move forward with. I found myself with the task of cleaning up Mikey's room, packing all that stuff away.

What he owned would have seemed like junk to a lot of people. Paperbacks with the front covers torn off -- he'd go get them from the back of bookstores. Comic books in abundance. Action figures. The rest of my brothers had outgrown action figures a long time ago, and I had outgrown them first, but Mikey had never outgrown them. He'd happily adopted all of our action figures, and if one only had one arm or was missing a foot or had its face colored on, his imagination simply provided reasons and moved on.

Raphael came in with a Dr. Pepper, a sour scowl on his face. "I dunno whether we should keep all this stuff or not."

"Of course we should keep it," I said. "I'll keep it in my new room if nobody else wants it."

Raph grunted at that one. That's when I got a good look at what he was _still_ carrying around in his belt. "Are you actually reading that?"

He looked down at the Bible tucked into his belt as if he was surprised to find it there. "No."

I relaxed. It was bad enough with Leo bowing his head before every meal and praying for our redemption when he thought none of us could hear it. It really, really was. I wasn't sure I could take it if Raph of all people got started in on it. In on me. I taped up the last box and said, "Are you going to miss this place?"

"No." Raph said again. "I'm about ready to get away from the memories. Ain't worried about leaving the underground, either. With all that's gone on, who could give a damn about what they think they glimpse? Mutant turtles? That's nothin' next to the world disappearing. So what's your theory, science guy? I've heard just about everyone else's."

"I don't have one," I said.

Raphael's eyes narrowed into little slits. I could almost feel the anger radiating straight off of him, and my own eyes widened in surprise. Why was he angry?

"What do you mean, you don't have one? Wise ass. So smart and you don't have a theory. Do you even favor a theory?"

"None of the theories I've heard are scientifically sound. I'm not going to get behind one that isn't. There is no force that I know of that could have brought these events about. Until I learn of one, I'm going to stick with 'I don't know'."

"What about Leo's theory?"

"Leo doesn't have a theory. Leo has a new club he belongs to. It's called the if only I'd gone to Sunday School club and it's just his way of coping with grief and pain. I for one find it preferable to him going catatonic on us, but I'm not going to take it for my own. Mike's gone. Splinter's gone. April's legs don't work and the basic infrastructure of the world has gone wrong and it will be years in the recovery. That's the state of things. Maybe I don't care about the 'why' right now."

"You know what? I think that's a pathetic cop out," Raphael said. He sat down on Mike's bed, and dug an action figure out from beneath the pillow. One I'd missed. He threw it at me and I caught it, and for a moment I caught a flicker of disappointment on his face. Like he'd been hoping that it was going to hit me right on head.

"Ok. Well then, Praise the Lord," I said sarcastically, "because that makes about as much sense as anything else." I dropped the little G.I. Joe back in the box. "Are you packed yet? I'm not going to get stuck packing _your_ things too."

"I'm packed."

"Good."

Raphael hesitated, and he said, "You think I'm pansy ass, don't you. That I'm even thinking about it."

I sat back on my heels. 'Pansy ass' was his language, not mine. His concepts, too. I tried to frame my words as carefully as I could. "I think," I said, "That April and Leo need us. She's latched on to Mr. Superpolitician and her new job. He's latched on to religion. Neither of them are coping very well. They're both walking around with stars in their eyes and full of bubbly enthusiasm for their chosen saviors. I think that the bills have to get paid and that food has to get cooked and we have to make sure nobody dies in riots or looting sprees. That there's probably going to be stuff at the new house that needs repairing. That we need leadership, and if Leo can't provide it, you're the next natural choice. It scares me that you're thinking about it, because if you keep thinking about it, I'm going to be the only one left. It surprises me that you're thinking about it. It means things really have changed. That everything has changed, too much and too fast. I'd rather you think about helping me with protecting the rest of our family."

He nodded to that, but he didn't remove the thing from his belt. Maybe it would have gone better had I tackled him and hit him to get my point across, but that wasn't my way. "I'll go plan our route. We're going to have to take back roads," he said. "Can you imagine our van getting pulled over and a country cop looking in on _us?"_

Well, I'd take my help where and how I could get it, and if I was going to be the only realistic one, so be it, as long as Raphael was willing to tune in with me occasionally.

Strange. Life was too strange.


	40. Good Fences, Good Neighbors

40

Don

The new home in Chicago was beautiful. It was three stories, which was more room, I felt, than we _really_ needed to rattle around in, but April, flush with the increase in pay from her transfer, had been too excited to dissuade. There was, at least, enough space to keep us all apart, what with increasing tensions in the home between all the different views we were holding about what was necessary in the days to come. It was near a church, New Hope something, which at least made Leo feel better.

One of those arguments, however, I had won. It landed me a lot of work to do, all by myself, but I was down in the basement carefully tearing down a section of wall in order to build a secret room. It was my thought that we could stash weapons and spare food down there. That we could reinforce it and use it if there were some sort of nuclear strike. Whatever April had to say about Good Old St. Nick, I believed the world had grown more unsafe than ever. For once, Leo grimly backed me, though he stayed silent about his reasons. But Leo is worse than useless when it comes to building anything, so I urged him not to help me.

The work was hard, and slow going, but I eventually got the wall down and had begun working on clearing out dirt when there was a sudden cave in ahead of me. I let out a shout of shock – and so did someone on the other side. Then he let out another when the rest of the dirt wall came tumbling down and we were face to face. He was not a big man. Lank brown hair, going to gray and going to balding over a round face. Not fat, but a bit of a gut. It was too late to keep him from seeing me, so I just…put my shovel aside and held out my hands in that universal sort of "I'm not here to hurt you" gesture.

"What _are_ you?" The man asked at last.

"I am," I said, "A giant, walking talking turtle." I tried to keep all of the dryness I felt out of my voice. "Only slightly less believable than millions of disappearances all over the world. It looks like we had some of the same ideas, but if you want to forget you ever saw me, I won't object."

He was back to staring at me, his mouth hanging agape.

"My name's Donatello," I offered helpfully, in the hopes that it would keep the man from suddenly losing what was left of his wits and trying to bean me with that shovel of his. "Everyone calls me Don, though."

"Nice to meet you, Don," he said. His voice came out slow, careful, and I noticed that he was pinching himself as covertly as he could. Not exactly original in the reactions field there.

"I think you dug a bit too far into our property line," I offered apologetically. _See? Me smart. Me talking turtle. Me know about property lines._

"Yes, I'm terribly sorry," the man said, and that seemed to help him recover a little. He took out a hanky and mopped all over his face, which was blotched red and covered in beads of sweat. "Terribly sorry," he repeated.

"No problem," I said. "We can share the space, I don't really care as long as we have enough. We'll just decide where you want your wall and go from there." As if we were just two neighbors, discussing a fence, which as far as _I _was concerned at least, we were.

"Right, right," he said. His eyes still took up the greater portion of real estate on his broad face.

Time to try a different tactic. "What's your name?"

"OH! Sorry, dreadfully sorry." He cleared his throat. He held out his dusty hand to grip my own for a shake "My name's Bruce. Bruce Barnes."

**Author's Notes:** Ha! I bet you alllll thought I'd forgotten. Well I haven't. It sometimes takes time for this story's inspiration to strike me again around all the life I'm living. For those who care, God has helped me graduate from college, gain a wonderful job, and is doing amazing, miracle level work in my life right now. I'll see how much I can pound out before it leaves me again!


	41. Are You On The List?

41

Leo

The persistent clicking of April's keyboard. The sounds of Don working on the basement. The sounds of Raph slamming into a punching bag. The sounds of family, the sounds of home. These were also the sounds keeping me from concentrating on the Bible study I was attempting to keep track of.

So it was easy to catch April's low, soft murmur of confusion and dismay as the clacking on her keyboard slowed.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"I…" She paused and looked up, troubled. "A friend from a branch office in Romania just sent me an encrypted file. His name is Lonny Pruitt, our company sent him over there about 7 years ago. The file was triple encrypted and sent under a false email address, but with a 'remember when' anecdote that let me know it was him right away. I'm trying to break the encryption."

"That's more Don's style than mine," I said, as if she didn't know that. "Though is that normally the sort of thing that goes on at your company?"

"No. No, its not." April chewed on her lower lip. "And you don't have to go get Don. He's busy and I've got it." There had been a strained, growing distance between those two over the past few days that I couldn't help but worry about. But then, Don had grown distant and impatient with everyone over the past few days. It was as if he was taking on some of Raph's anger and Raph was taking on some of his level headedness, and the response was two surly, mostly taciturn, impatient seeming but steady copies of one another.

Something told me to stay put though, peering over her shoulder at lines of code sliding by like so many snakes. At last April grinned and pecked out a sequence. It began resolving itself.

"Aabdulah, Leona. Aadam, David. Aadam, Sarah…What _is_ this?" I asked, frowning. It looked like a huge file, full of names. All sorts of names, scrolling by in Alphabetical order.

"I…I don't know." April kept paging down. It never showed anything _but_ names, until she started clicking more keys. She frowns. "This originated out of Nicolae Carpathia's personal computer, if this file is to be believed. Dated around the time Lonny got to Romania, though I doubt there's a connection there. Its like he's gathering this entire list."

"See if they're database entries," I suggested. I had spent enough time around the both of them to pick up at least a few things.

"Right," she says. She clicked on one "Goode, Amy," at random.

Instantly another window popped open. It held the woman's photograph (a very attractive looking black lady with a sort of crooked smile), her full name, her date of birth, her place of birth. Her driver's license number, social security number, her credit card numbers from the time she started taking them out. All of her previous addresses. All of her school records. It had long paragraphs about her, including psychological assessments.

"What. The. Crap!" April hissed, her face going pale. "There are thousands of records here, from all over the world, and this guy from _Romania_ has full disclosure records on all of them?"

"Not just records. Dossiers," I said grimly. "I'm not so sure about this St. Nick stuff, April. Not seeing this. Let's see if anyone we know is in there."

She did a search on her own name. Nothing came up. I could see a subtle tension leaving her shoulders. Then she did another search.

There, on the screen, was Casey Jones' name and profile.

"What possible interest could the President of Romania," I asked softly, "Have had in Casey Jones as early as 7 years ago?"


	42. The Comfort of Anger

42

Raph

I came into the room as Leo and April were still staring at the computer screen. I'd been trying to blow off some steam, but it wasn't working. So I got a full on face of Casey's dossier right there on the screen.

"Anyone want to tell me what's going on?" I said it as evenly as possible. I had been noticin' that Leo, he always spoke evenly and he usually got what he wanted.

"It was an encrypted document my friend Lonny got from the computer of the Romanian President. Carpathia," April said.

"President," I said. "You mean the freaking Secretary General of the U.N. It was just announced. Not only that, he's making some major changes, but I didn't understand very many of 'em." Politics. Not my thing.

"What changes?" Leo asked, an eyeridge lifting.

I felt a stab of exasperation. "Its all over the news, you can look it up yourself. Right now I'm more concerned with what's there on the screen. Did he just have that because he hired Casey as his bodyguard?"

"No, this file is 7 years old," April explained.

I felt my gut start doing the tango with my feet. "He was gathering info on Casey seven years ago? Casey would have been what? 13? 14?"

"Not just Casey," Leonardo said grimly. "Millions of people. What we can't figure out is why. Or how he got ahold of this stuff way back in Romania. Surveillance culture though we may now be, it can't be that easy to get into American information networks, say, with their technological infrastructure. It's just not as strong as ours, as I understand it."

I felt another stab of irritation. I wasn't really able to get all the way up to anger, not lately. I was too tired. "You're missing the point. If he's got that information, if he was interested that early, Casey could be in major trouble. I need to go back and warn him. He won't listen over the phone."

"He'll do a great job of listening in person, I'm sure," Leo murmured. _Now _I felt the good old fashioned urge to punch him. It felt _great._ For one moment, we were ourselves again, everything was normal, and more than that?

I had something very clear that I needed to do.

Of course, first there was the inevitable fight about me doing it to get through. "I don't think that's the point. I think the point is, my buddy has attached himself to someone I don't trust. I now have evidence that he shouldn't be trusted. I should go and make sure he gets _unattached_, particularly with this guy holding Angel over his head."

"We need you here," Leo replied, an edge entering his own voice. "Casey is capable of taking care of himself. Make a phone call. Make a phone call, before getting up, going all the way back to New York, and trying to meet with one of the body guards of the now-most prominent political figure in the entire world. He'll be watched. You'll be seen. It's not a win-win situation."

"What the _fuck!"_ I snapped. Oh it felt good. So good. The rage was running through me, pure as anything. I took a step forward. I raised my fist. I did them out of the sheer joy of going through the steps again, the right steps, the way-things-were steps. We weren't arguing about Bibles. We weren't arguing about faith. Our roles weren't all scrambled. Above and beyond the fact that I was _right._ This felt better than anything else that could have happened.

"I could go," April said, quietly, only to wheel her chair back a few steps when _both _of us turned to her and snapped,

"No!"

I wanted to plunge myself as far into the rage as I could. I gave Leo a cold smile and looked for the worst knife I could throw. Nevermind that it would bring us back into the religion ground. The argument had _started_ over something else and that made all the difference. "What's the matter? This inconvenient? Demand a little too much from you?" I took another step forward. "I leave out for a week, maybe you gotta step back up to the plate and take some responsibility again?" Another step forward. "Or maybe you just don't like my buddy. Maybe you just don't care about him. Good job. Real Christian caring there."

He reared back as if I'd hit him, and satisfaction welled up in me like a black spring.

"I'm going," I said, and then I went upstairs to grab a few things.

Even slamming the door was perfect.


	43. Bruce's Story

43

Don

"I'm the pastor at the New Hope Village Church over there," he went on to explain.

"A pastor," I said. "Really." I propped up my arm and watched him for a long moment. "Well then, Mr. Pastor Barnes, I have a favor to ask of you. Do it for me, and I'll even let you sneak over a bit more of our property lines."

Here is what I was thinking at this very moment. If he was a pastor, and he was still here, then clearly, Leo was wrong. We could put an end to this nonsense once and for all and get on with the business of getting back to whatever version of normal was going to be there for us, and learning how to live in this brave new world. All I had to do was get this guy upstairs to talk to them about it, and then things would be alright.

He blinked several times. "Er – well, first tell me what the favor is."

"I want you to talk to my brothers and my best friend. About the disappearances." If only I'd been better with people. If only I had.

"Oh! I can do that. Yes."

"Come on through, I'll take you upstairs and get you a drink. Nobody will care about us both being a little dusty."

I led him upstairs, where I heard doors slamming and argument happening. Well, nothing new. I didn't see Raph, but it was Leo that I was interested in. Leo stared as I led another human up into the living room, and April turned her chair around to gape as well. Before they could say anything, I said, "This is Pastor Bruce Barnes. He appears to be our next door neighbor. Leo, I thought you might like to meet him. He's got some things to say about the disappearances." _He's still here. He's still here, and a pastor, so there's no way. And he'll set Leo straight with whatever the real theories are. Leo, as newly into this, simply misunderstood the theology, that's all._ "Pastor Barnes," I continued, "This is my brother Leo and my – my best friend, April O'Neil."

April shook his hand. Upstairs we could hear the thumps and bumps of Raphael angrily doing … something. April then seemed to remember something, paled, and shut down her computer.

Leo smiled. "Please, Pastor, have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink? You look like you've been working hard."

"Oh – ahh, just water, please," Bruce said. "I have to say this is really an unusual and remarkable situation, but I'll trust that God brought me to it."

Leo got him his glass of water and sat down. "We're ready to listen."

He pulled out a pair of wire rimmed glasses and polished them on the cleanest end of his grubby shirt, then plopped them on his nose. "What has happened here," he said at last, "Was an event known as the Rapture."

It was at that moment that I knew I'd miscalculated. Raph came down and gave me a look which plainly demanded to know what was going on, but all I could do was slap my face with the palm of my hand. My other brother thumped down a duffle bag, turned a chair around, and straddled it. Leo made the introductions, interrupting briefly. Then the pastor began to speak in earnest.

He told us about losing his wife and family in the disappearances. About how he, and the few remaining members of the church, had gathered there that night. All trying to deny what had happened, he said. "We knew the truth though," he said. "After a few lame 'why hadn't we been taken' arguments, we quieted down. Every last one of us, me included, had been a total and complete phony."

"_I loved church,"_ he continued.

I couldn't interrupt. I had, after all, invited him up here, and to not let him say his piece would be rude. I'd already been rude with my facepalming. I was just glad that he was too intent on what he was saying to notice.

"_It was my life, my culture. I thought I believed everything there was to believe in the Bible. The Bible says if you believe in Christ you have eternal life, so I assumed I was covered. _

_I especially liked the parts about God being forgiving. I was a sinner, and I never changed. I just kept getting forgiveness because I thought God was bound to do that. He had to. Verses that said that if we confessed our sins he was faithful and just to forgive us and to cleanse us. I knew that other verses said you had to believe and receive, to trust and to abide, but to me that was sort of theological mumbo jumbo. I wanted the bottom line, the easiest route, the simplest path. I knew other verses said that we are not to continue in sin just because God shows grace._

"_I thought I had a great life. I even went to Bible college. In church and at school, I said the right things and prayed in public and even encouraged people in their Christian lives. But I was still a sinner. I even said that. I told people I wasn't perfect; I was forgiven. But I was a liar. I told my wife that we tithed to the church, you know, that we gave ten percent of our income. I hardly ever gave any, except when the plate was passed I might drop in a few bills to make it look good. Every week I would confess to God, promising to do better next time. _

"_I encouraged people to share their faith, to tell other people how to become Christians. But on my own I never did that. My job was to visit people in their homes and nursing homes and hospitals every day. I was good at it. I encouraged them, smiled at them, talked with them, prayed with them, even read Scripture to them. But I never did that on my own, privately. I was lazy. I cut corners. When people thought I was out calling, I might be at a movie in another town. _

"_I had a real racket going. And I bought into it. Deep down, way deep down, I knew better. I knew it was too good to be true. I knew that true Christians were known by what their lives produced and that I was producing nothing. But I comforted myself that there were worse people around who called themselves Christians._

"_When people found out I was on the pastoral staff at New Hope, I would tell them about the cool pastor and the neat church, but I was shy about telling them about Christ. If they challenged me and asked if New Hope_ _was one of those churches that said Jesus was the only way to God, I did everything but deny it. I wanted them to think that I was OK, that I was with it. I may be a Christian and even a pastor, but don't lump me in with the weirdos."_

In spite of myself, I found myself at least interested. The man was pouring his heart out, and all of us were sitting there, quiet and respectful. There was something very honest about him. I couldn't imagine him this man he was describing. He was loving, intense, sincere, and I was struck with the oddest notion that he actually really cared about us, even though he'd only known us for a few moments. I didn't really buy what he was saying, mind – it _still_ sounded like theological mumbo jumbo to me. But at the same time, I was impressed by the man himself.

"_I see now, of course, that God is a sin-forgiving God, because we're human and we need that. But we are to receive his gift, abide in Christ, and allow him to live through us. I used what I thought was my security as a license to do what I wanted. I could basically live in sin and pretend to be devout. I had a great family and a nice work environment. And as miserable as I was privately most of the time, I really believed I would go to heaven when I died._

"_I hardly ever read my Bible except when preparing a talk or lesson. I didn't have the 'mind of Christ.' Christian, I knew vaguely, means 'Christ one' or 'one like Christ'. That sure wasn't me, and I sure found out in the worst way possible._

"_This is your decision. These are your lives. _I know that all of you must feel on the outside, looking in, given your unique circumstances. _But I know exactly what happened a few nights ago. Jesus Christ returned for his true family, and the rest of us were left behind._

"_There is no doubt in my mind that we have witnessed the Rapture. My biggest fear, once I realized the truth, that there was no more hope for me. I had missed it, I had been a phony, I had set up my own brand of Christianity that may have made for a life of freedom but had cost me my soul. You can't know the relief when a tape the Pastor left showed me otherwise._

"_We have to see ourselves as God sees us. The Bible says we have all sinned, that there is none righteous. It also says we can't save ourselves. Lots of people thought they could earn their way to God or to heaven by doing good things, but that's the biggest misconception ever._

"_We're to do that, of course, but not so we can earn our salvation. We're to do that in response to our salvation. The Bible says it is not by works of righteousness that we have done, but by his mercy, God saved us."_

"Mikey was always saying that. Leo's always saying it now," April said quietly.

I admit that I tuned out the next bits, the talk about how to find my salvation, and the part where he began asking us if we were ready to make the decision yet. I just shook my head – impressed by the man or not, I wasn't buying in, and was disturbed that April even sounded like she might. From St. Nick to Jesus. She was a _scientist_ for crying out loud! Why was she floating on the wind between every little theory that came along? This wasn't like her!

_Then he started telling us not to wait, and giving us a crash course in Bible Prophecy and the end times. He started going on about the Antichrist. A great one-world religion that would spring up. A so called peace maker who would bring bloodshed through war. Two witnesses who would show up and perform miracles in Jerusalem. The Antichrist that would divide the world into ten kingdoms. How Babylon_ _would be the headquarters for a new world order. Babylon, of all places! As if Babylon_ _had been seen for thousands of years! A seven year period called the tribulation, and the seven year pact between the Antichrist and Isreal, the rebuilding of the temple._

It all sounded like so much crap to me, and I was opening my mouth to say so, my temper replacing my earlier indulgence and desire to be polite. Yet I was interrupted by a crash, and turned to find Raphael had fallen out of his chair, and was staring at Bruce. His cheeks had gone a pallid shade of gray, in a look that I'd never seen before on his face. "Have you," he asked, in a voice that was _shaking…_"Have you been watching the news this morning?"

Slowly, Bruce shook his head. "I was, as I'm sure Don can tell you – digging."

"Its true," Raphael whispered, still looking – for lack of a better word – terrified. "Its. All. True."

**Author's Note: Everything **in Italics that isn't emphasis? Is directly taken from Left Behind or so close of a paraphrase that to not set it apart would have been direct plagiarism. Please give credit where credit is due. Bruce Barnes is a feature character from Left Behind.


	44. Not Through Fear Shall I Come

44

Raph

It was because I'd been listening to the news that I finally heard it. The news that had seemed like just more politicians yammering on about nothing much important. Only I heard a special follow-up report out of this pastor guy's mouth. That was written oh, a few thousand years ago. This just in. Stay tuned.

The thing is, I'd just gotten finished hearing that Nicolae Carpathia, the world's darling, wanted to add five more members to the five permanent members of the U.N. security council. Ten members. Ten heads. And that he wanted to dismantle 90 of the world's nukes – and give the other 10 to the U.N. I'm not sure why the world didn't see that as amounting to handing world leadership to the U.N. Global community – that was the new Secretary General's buzzword. Nicolae Carpathia was calling it a Global Community.

Then there were the parts about the anti-Christ using a platform of peace to take over the world. Peace was Carpathia's platform, too. I'd met the man. I'd been a little impressed by him. But I could read between the lines, too. I didn't like it, but the evidence was piling up. Mikey had been right. The Bible was right. It was playing out, right before our eyes.

But what did that mean for me?

What did that mean for Casey, who had apparently just become the bodyguard of the Antichrist?

I realized I was still on my shell on the floor and everyone was staring at me like I'd lost my mind. Everyone except Leo and the pastor, who were looking at me really hopefully.

"Its all true," I repeated, growling a little. "And I gotta do something about Casey."

"If you think its all true," Leo said, "Then you're ready to do it, right? Become a Christian?"

"Sorry Leo, no." I shook my head from side to side. "This isn't a country club. I can't just sign up because I've gotten scared. It can't possibly work like that. I'm not gonna look at God and go, wow, you've scared the crap out of me, sign me up. That doesn't seem right."

"Who is Casey?" Bruce wanted to know.

"My buddy. He's currently the Antichrist's bodyguard so – " I slung my bag over my shoulder. "I gotta go."

"Everyone today…" Bruce muttered. He leaned forward and looked me in the eye. "Raphael, right? Raphael. I beg you not to go anywhere near the Antichrist without the protection of Christ. God doesn't worry about your reasons for coming to Him. The Tribulation itself is the last cry of a loving God to save as many souls as possible, to get our attention. Through fear or through whatever, God wants you in his family. Please, come to Christ before it's too late. The Bible warns that the Antichrist will have many evil powers. You will have no defense without God. And the Antichrist is about to solidify his rule with a show of power. Soon. If you go without God, you will be in mortal and spiritual danger."

"Listen, I appreciate your concern," I said, though I didn't. I was starting to get upset and annoyed again. "But I know all about 'mortal' danger, and I guarantee you that no whacked out servant of the Devil is going to mess with me. I'm just going to grab Casey and get out. That's all."

Then I left the house, before anyone could stop me.


	45. I'm Desperate For You

45

Raph

I took my motorcycle. Maybe I should have given my brothers time to mobilize to help me. But I wasn't sure I wanted help. Don didn't even like Casey, and I just couldn't handle the pressure of Leo. Not then.

_What do you think, Mikey? Should I pray the prayer like they all say? It seems too corny, bro. Too easy. Like paying some kind of lip service to God. It seems real cheap to do it just because I think it might protect me somehow. But I do believe it. I believe it's true._ I was crying. I hated to cry – it made me furious that I was crying. But beneath the helmet of my motorcycle, my face was wet. _I wish I hadn't given you such a hard time about it. Whatever else happens, I really do. I'm sorry for that. I miss you._

Stuff I never would have let on to anyone I was thinking or feeling. I wondered if he could hear me. Was he watching out for me, or did it work some other way? I didn't know. I just didn't know. Odd to think of Mikey watching out for _me._ Odd to think of Mikey as having anything together at all.

Could I be forgiven? Could _I_ be one of God's people? In God's family? I was having trouble seeing it. As I drove down the lonely stretches of highway, still occasionally having to dodge big chunks of abandoned cars and twisted metal from the Rapture Wrecks, I was really, seriously aware of all my fuck ups. I could see God loving Mikey. I could see God loving Leo. I could even see Don. But me?

It was a long, long drive of much the same thoughts.

I stopped to sleep about an hour and a half outside of New York City. Passed out to disturbed dreams. And then drove into the city, where a huge press conference was already shaping up outside of the United Nations.

I couldn't just walk into the UN. Even wearing a leather jacket and a motorcycle helmet, I look like a giant turtle. There's no getting around it. So I cheated. I parked the motorcycle three blocks away, slipped into the sewers, and used the tunnels to bust on in. The sewers led to the boiler tube which led to the vent system. I went crawling through, trying to figure out where Casey might be. I had to warn the guy and get him out of there.

But I felt something.

I _felt_ something.

Evil.

I paused in the vent. Dust was settling all around me. I was sweating. It's hard to make our strange mutant bodies sweat, but now I was. The sharp metal was pressing in, all around me. I was over a vent. I could see men in suits walking by beneath me. I was sick with it, the feeling that some dark and horrible evil was everywhere. All around me. I almost expected the vents themselves to close in on me, to eat me alive.

_I'm turning into a pussy in my old age,_ I thought.

But it was _there._

I wanted to back up. I couldn't back up. My buddy was in there.

For the first time in my life I was praying. Somewhere in the back of my noggin, I was babblin' to God that I needed his protection.

But there was no relief. If anything, focusing on God made me more aware of the evil all throughout the building.

I made myself move forward. I dragged myself. I was headed towards the center of the building – and I got a glimpse of him through the vent. I saw Casey, trailing Carpathia, and saw the direction they were going and the room they were going in. The oppression was stifling, and I nearly cried out with it. I flopped backwards. My head hurt. My eyes hurt. I felt so stupid. I felt so cowardly. They were unfamiliar sensations that should have made me angry, but I was too overwhelmed.

Then I knew the facts.

I _needed_ God. I needed Him more than just for this. I needed him all the time. Part of me had wanted Him all along. I'd just never recognized it. All my rage. All my aggression. My whole long competition with Leo over Splinter's love and approval. All of it. It was me going after someone I didn't know but needed to know.

Maybe it wasn't just fear. Maybe God was warning me anyway. I didn't belong to him. Not yet. But I could.

_Alright God._ _You say if I confess with my mouth and believe with my heart that I am sinful and Jesus died to cover that, that it's done. Deal's done. I'm yours. Well here I am. I'm ready to cut this deal. I don't know what it's gonna mean for me, and I don't know if you really want me, but here I am. I want you, so…let's go. Let's do this thing._

No flashes of light. No personal cell call from Heaven. But – I felt peace. I had never felt peace before. I felt courage again. I felt purposeful. I felt like I was in the presence of an old friend – and so could move forward to try to save mine.

When I got to the next vent I saw a whole bunch of people I didn't recognize. I saw that reporter, Cameron Williams. Buck. I saw Carpathia. I saw Casey.

**Carpathia rose, then. "Gentlemen and lady," he said – there was a hot blonde next to him in the room, the only woman. "This is an important moment. In a few moments we will greet the press and introduce those of you who shall be entrusted to lead the new world order into a golden era. The global village has been united, and we face the greatest task and the greatest opportunity ever bestowed upon humankind.**

**Carpathia stepped out from his place at the table and went to each person individually. He greeted each by name, asking him to stand, shaking his hand, and kissing him on both cheek. Each person got told the same thing. "I welcome you to the team and confer upon you all the rights and privileges that go with your new station. May you display to me and those in your charge the consistency and wisdom that have brought you to this position."**

Even Casey got the treatment. Even Williams, though I had no idea what sort of "position" that a reporter might have. He was looking into each person's eyes like he was –

Like he was hypnotizing them or something.

And then?

He looked straight up into the vent.

His eyes met mine.

My heart froze.

**Author's Note: **As I used a lot of italics for Raphael's thoughts this time, I put in bold print the things that were drawn whole cloth out of the Left Behind Book. We've come to a point now where Left Behind canon and my Ninja Turtle story completely intersect, so it's more necessary than usual.

Thanks to my readers who have stuck with me thus far…I'm nearly done!


	46. Show of Power

46

Raph

The Antichrist's voice was like this real satisfied, real scary purr as he whispered, "And you, Raphael. You. I welcome you to the team and confer upon you all the rights and privileges that go with your station."

I reared back, wishing for the shadows to hide me. It was strange. It felt good. So flattering. And then I shook my head. Flattering? It was fucking cre…sorry God. It was freak…it was creepy! That's what it was. How did he even know I was there? What position? What rights? What privileges? My heart was thundering inside of my shell.

And there was no way to draw Casey out of there. Not just then.

Carpathia moved on, and I found I could breathe again. Then, I found I couldn't. _Oh God. Had I come in here without you he'd have owned me._ And then…_He already owns Casey!_

I should have left right then – but I had to see the end. I had to watch this strange drama play itself out. I had to know. I was the only one of my brothers who was going to be here to witness this. I had to go back and tell them. Maybe this would be what convinced Don. Convincing Don, convincing April – it was suddenly as important to me as it had to be to Leo. I had to tell Leo, maybe Leo most of all. Had Leo been praying for me? Had Bruce? Had their prayers helped me get the warning? I owed it to them.

So I stayed.

**Carpathia** **dramatically turned to one of the other men in the room. The other man smiled a knowing smile and stood regally.**

"**Where do I begin, Jonathan, my friend?" Carpathia said.**

**Jonathan dropped his head gratefully and the others murmured their agreement that this was indeed the man among men in the room. Carpathia took Jonathan's hand and began formally, "Mr. Stonagal, you have meant more to me than anyone on earth."**

**Stonagal looked up and smiled, locking eyes with Carpathia.**

_The banker,_ I realized. _The power broker who made the one world currency that's going to be the foundation of Carpathia's empire possible._ _Oh sh—oh God, what was happening?_

"**I welcome you to the team," Carpathia said, "And confer upon you all the rights and privileges that go with your new station."**

**Stonagal flinched, clearly not interested in being considered a part of the team, to be welcomed by the very man that he had maneuvered into the presidency of Romania and now the secretary-generalship of the United Nations. His smile froze, then disappeared as Carpathia continued. "May you display to me and those in your charge the consistency and wisdom that have brought you to this position."**

**Rather than thanking Carpathia, Stonagal wrenched his hand away and glared at the younger man. Carpathia continued to gaze directly at him and spoke in quieter, warmer tones. "Mr. Stonagal, you may be seated."**

"**I will not!" Stonagal said.**

"**Sir, I have been having a bit of sport at your expense because I knew you would understand."**

**Stonagal reddened. He'd overreacted. "I beg your pardon, Nicolae." He sat.**

"**I would like to present you all just a bit of an object lesson in leadership, followership, and may I say, chain of command. **Casey Jones, come here."

_Casey!_

Casey jerked as if he was coming out of a dream, but he hurried to Carpathia.

"Give me your gun."

Casey did. It was a thirty-eight caliber police special with a four inch barrel, loaded with high-velocity hollow-point shells. Casey had never carried a gun in his life. He beat up on crime fighters with sportsgear – not guns. It made me a little sick to my stomach to see him packing heat now. It made me sicker to see him willingly stick the gun into the hands of the Antichrist.

"Thank you. Now return to your post."

"**I would like to tell you all what you are about to see," Carpathia said, and I felt that rush of evil all over again. **

"**I am going to ask Mr. Stonagal to rise once more," Carpathia said. "Jonathan, if you please."**

**Stonagal sat staring at him. Carpathia smiled. "Jonathan, you know you can trust me. I love you for all you have meant to me, and I humbly ask you to assist me in this demonstration. I see part of my role as a teacher. You have said that yourself, and you have been my teacher for years."**

**Stonagal stood. Wary.**

_Carpathia_ _is going to kill him._

"**And now I am going to ask that we switch places."**

**Stonagal swore. "What is this?" he demanded.**

"**It will become clear quickly, and I will not need your help anymore."**

**Stonagal, with a disgusted frown, stepped out and traded places with Carpathia. That put Carpathia to Stonagal's right. The blonde was on Stonagal's left, and beyond her, a man I didn't recognize.**

"**And now I am going to ask you to kneel, Jonathan." Carpathia's smile and light tone were gone. Everyone in the room seemed to suck in a breath—and hold it.**

"**That I will not do!" Stonagal said.**

"**Yes, you will," Carpathia said. "Do it now."**

"**No sir, I will not," Stonagal said. "Have you lost your mind? I will not be humiliated. If you think you have risen to a position over me, you are mistaken."**

**Carpathia raised the .38, cocked it, and stuck the barrel into Stonagal's right ear. The older man at first jerked away, but Carpathia said, "Move again and you are dead."**

The room was starting to get agitated now. I reached for my sai. I drew it. Maybe, just maybe, I could stop this. But it was as though a hard hand had clamped around my wrist, stopping me. I couldn't intervene. If I did – I was dead. Maybe Casey too.

When I looked again, Stonagal was on his knees.

"**My dear," Carpathia said, looking over at the blonde. "You will want to slide your chair back about three feet so as not to soil your outfit."**

**The lady didn't move.**

**Stonagal began to whimper. "Nicolae, why are you doing this? I am your friend! I am no threat!"**

"**Begging does not become you, Jonathan. Please be quiet. Hattie," he continued, looking directly into her eyes now, "stand and move your chair back and be seated. Hair, skin, skull tissue and brain matter will mostly be absorbed by Mr. Todd-Cothran and the others next to him. I do not want to get anything on you."**

**She moved her chair back.**

**Stonagal whined, "No, Nicolae! No!"**

**Carpathia was in no hurry. "I am going to kill Mr. Stonagal with a painless hollow-point round to the brain which he will neither hear nor feel. The rest of us will experience some ringing in our ears. This will be instructive for you all. You will understand cognitively that I am in charge, that I fear no man, and that no one can oppose me. When Mr. Stonagal is dead, I will tell you what you will remember. And lest anyone feel I have not been fair, let me not neglect to add that more than gore will wind up on Mr. Todd-Cothran's suit. A high velocity bullet at this range will also kill him."**

Someone shouted a denial as Carpathia pulled the trigger. **The blast rattled the windows and even the door. Stonagal's head crashed into the toppling Todd-Cothran, and both were plainly dead before their entwined bodies hit the floor.**

**Carpathia began to speak, as if speaking to children. "What we have just witnessed here," he said kindly, "was a horrible, tragic end to two otherwise extravagantly productive lives. These men were two I respected and admired more than any others in the world. What compelled Mr. Stonagal to rush my bodyguard, disarm him, take his own life and that of his British colleague, I do not know and may never fully understand. We are all horrified and traumatized by having witnessed this. Who would not be? My first act as secretary-general will be to close the U.N. for the remainder of the day and to pronounce my regrettable benedictory obituary on the lives of two old friends. I trust you will all be able to deal with this unfortunate occurrence and that it will not forever hamper your ability to serve in your strategic roles. Thank you, gentlemen. While Ms. Durham phones security, I will be polling you for your version of what happened here."**

**The blonde ran to the phone and could barely make herself understood in her hysteria. "Come quick! There's been a suicide and two men are dead! It was awful! Hurry!"**

They were eating it up. I could tell they all genuinely believed it. All but one. Buck Williams was standing there, pale and sweating.

He was a believer too. I knew he was.

I had to get out of there though. I knew it as surely as I knew my own name. I scrambled backwards, making so much racket I was sure I would draw the attention of security, but the "suicides" were taking up everyone else's attention. It took me a lot of time to get out of the building and back to my motorcycle, and once I did I noticed Buck Williams striding across the parking lot as fast as he could go. Then I looked up and noticed something else.

A sniper had the reporter in his sights.


	47. A Brother's Love

47

Raph

Fury flooded my vision. I was relieved for it. But this time it wasn't the purposeless rage that had marked most of my life. There was no other phrase for it but "righteous" fury, but boy did it feel great.

I had to get up to the roof the sniper was on – and fast. Luckily he wasn't on the U.N. building, but on top of a restaurant. I crouched on the seat of my motorcycle and sprang up to a flagpole. I twisted myself around and up, landing on the roof and in a crouch just in time to see the gentle pressure of the sniper's finger on the trigger. There was no time to attack him. I whipped out one of my sais and knocked the gun off course. The silenced bullet hit the side of a building, and Buck Williams hurried on to get into a taxi and drive safely out of sight.

But then I had a problem. A big problem. The sniper turned on me, an expression of rage on his face, and leveled the gun at me.

I sneered at him. "Gun vs. ninja? You lose."

But when he fired at me, I was forced to spring to the side and take a dive roll. The black gravelly top of the building exploded into several pieces of shrapnel behind me. I whipped out my other sai, but realized a simple math problem pretty dam—darn quick.

I had one weapon left, and if it didn't do the job, I'd be forced taking on my _hands_ vs. that gun of his.

And he was as highly trained as me. He turned the gun on me and fired once more – and even as I sprung out of the shot's way I felt the firey burn of a bullet lodging itself deep into my thigh.

Gunshots hurt. They hurt all over the body no matter where they hit. They tear and rip and burn with heat, and I found myself shouting in pain even as I stumbled and fell. My hand went involuntarily to press over the wound. The sniper grinned, a vicious grin. He put my head right in his sights.

I was going to die.

Then I saw a line of fire, a glimmer of silver, and the sniper's head flew off. The body stayed upright for a moment, then fell – revealing the shadowed silhouette of my brother, still in the killing stance, his flaming swords gleaming with fire and heat. Like he was some sort of incarnation of the Archangel Michael himself. The wind was rippling through the tendrils of his face mask, and his expression was grim and stern.

"Boy am I glad to see you," I gasped out.

"Well," he said, sheathing his sword and walking over. "You didn't think I'd leave my brother to face the darkness alone, did you? It just took me a little longer to get here, what with your head start and all."

I managed to breathe out a laugh.

And when he offered his hug, even though I muttered, "Don't get mushy on me now…"

I found myself returning it every bit as roughly.


	48. Epilogue

Epilogue

Leo

We'd found an abandoned cabin near the state border, and that's where we crashed for the night. I'd given Raphael my best field medicine, wishing that Don had come with me. But Don had been uncharacteristically disgusted with the whole thing, and had refused.

I found myself thinking of fours.

According to the Bible only 1 in 4 would survive the coming Tribulation all the way to the end, all the way to when Jesus appeared on earth. That held no fear for me on one hand – I knew where I was going. I, and thank God, now, Raph. I didn't know where Don was going, or what his fate would be. I'd have to keep praying for him, and for April.

Only three turtles left. Would any of us survive to the end? What about April, would she survive? Casey? In the hands, the very employ, of the Antichrist?  
I had to leave it in God's hands, but I knew one thing. We weren't going to sit the Tribulation on the sidelines. In hiding. We were going to actively oppose the Antichrist, just like we've actively opposed evil all along.

I called Don to check in. "Raph's been shot," I explained.

He swore loudly and said, "How bad?"  
"Leg. We'll be home in the morning."

There was an awkward silence. Don said, "Listen, Leo. You know I don't buy into all this stuff."  
I opened my mouth to try to say something, but he cut me off.

"I don't," he continued. "But I do think the world's gotten a lot more dangerous. So I want you to know that even with our differences, we're still brothers. I'm sorry I didn't come with you. I will stick with you and even Raph if he's plunged into your new belief system. No matter what, I will. I just – wanted you to know that."

It was a start.

A hopeful start.

And to God be the glory for that hope.

The End

**Author's Note: ** I can't believe I've come to the end of this. That God has brought me to the end of it. It's taken 3 years and is not far shy of a full length novel in and of itself. Of course I've left some loose ends. There's Casey and Don and April's fate in the balance, and worse still to come. Those of you who have patiently read through my very slow updates may be pleased to know that God is calling me to work on the next book, so stay tuned for the first chapter of "Tribulation Turtles," which shall roughly parallel the course of LeHaye and Jenkins Book 2 – "Tribulation Force."

God is real. He loves us and he wants a relationship with each and every one of us. He wants to help us, guide us, pour his abundance through us, teach us how to love one another, teach us to be better versions of ourselves. It's a journey. Nobody's perfect – God recognizes this. I'd like to call each one of you to come to Him, or at least to explore coming to Him. Come right where you are. Don't wait. None of us can be perfect – but through Christ we don't have to be. Accept yourself as a sinner, receive the gift of Christ's forgiveness. Believe it with your heart and confess it with your mouth. It isn't easy to do. It isn't easy to trust God, to put him at the center of your life. It will be a walk and a _process_ of transformation once you start, too. But your life will change. And for the better. And your eternal destiny will be secured. Maybe even more importantly than both of these things: you will never be alone again.

God bless you all, and thank you for following me this far. I appreciate all the warm comments, encouragement, friendship and fellowship I've had with each of you along the way.


End file.
